Book II Tears of the Force
by Valairy Scot
Summary: Sequel to Tears of the Force. Qui Gon Jinn survived the fight but is too injured to take Anakin as his padawan, and plays master padawan matchmaker.
1. Chapter 1

**Preface**: (Recap of Tears of the Force)

The Trade Federation meant to make a lesson of Naboo, or so it seemed, and had blockaded the planet, so Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn had been sent to Naboo to negotiate a settlement. While waiting to meet with the Trade Federation aboard their ship, his diplomatic ship was blown up. The Jedi escaped by hiding within the Federation's invasion army when deployed to Naboo, intending to warn both the Chancellor of the Republic and the Naboo themselves. However, all interplanetary communications had been severed. The only means of communication was to leave the planet.

The Jedi arrived in time to free the Queen and a small group of Naboo as the Federation's droids were taking them to a prison camp. They escaped the planet in the Queen's ship, but their hyperdrive was damaged and they were forced to an emergency stop for repairs.

They landed on Tatooine. While there, Qui-Gon Jinn found not only young Anakin Skywalker, a boy he believed to be the "Chosen One" of prophecy, but traces of his own long missing padawan.

It had been five years since Obi-Wan was kidnapped and mind-wiped on Phindar. In that time, Qui-Gon Jinn had not known if his young protégé was alive or dead. He had searched endlessly, and all but given up hope of ever finding the young man. He had tried to force away all memories of his padawan, unable to deal with the pain and uncertainty, until his old master had forced him to confront his feelings.

Each time Qui-Gon went on a mission, he hoped for a word, a glimpse, that Obi-Wan was alive, that he would find him. On Tatooine, he finally had.

Obi-Wan was a slave, still ignorant of his past. Qui-Gon was able to exchange a few words with Obi-Wan before his owner showed up, and the meeting started to bring back Obi-Wan's hidden memories. Qui-Gon tried desperately to find a way to free both Anakin and Obi-Wan, and get the Queen safely to Coruscant.

In the end, he had been forced to choose between Anakin and Obi-Wan, for he could only free one of them. He chose Anakin, and had to leave Obi-Wan behind when the small group finally got their ship repaired. They headed for Coruscant, where the Jedi Council refused to accept young Anakin for training, stating he was too old to begin training, but allowed young Anakin to return with the Jedi and the Naboo when the Queen decided to return to her planet and fight for her peoples freedom there. She had made her appeal to the Galactic Senate for help in person already.

On the return to Naboo, they made a stop on Tatooine at Qui-Gon's insistence. The Jedi was determined to free his padawan, and they were happily reunited. Obi-Wan's mind wipe had not really deleted his memories; the young Jedi had used the Force to hide them deep within his mind, to protect them. Qui-Gon's return had unlocked them, and returned Obi-Wan's lost memories. He was, again, a Jedi.

Together, the two Jedi fought what Qui-Gon believed to be a Sith as the Gungans battled the Trade Federation droid army, and the Queen and her band infiltrated the palace and captured the Trade Federation's viceroy. The Sith was strong and powerful, and in the battle impaled Qui-Gon through the chest. The young Jedi thought his master was dead and his grief threatened to overwhelm him.

There had been many tears shed. There would be more.

**Chapter 1. Interregnum **

Obi-Wan Kenobi's heart was broken. No pain, no ache, no sorrow had ever hurt as deeply as did this. His life had been taken away from him and given into the hands of those who had mistreated their slaves, only to have it given back by this man who had now had his own stripped from him.

And Obi-Wan Kenobi had been helpless to intervene. Forced to watch, a mere observer, as his master fought alone: he should have been at his master's side where the padawan belonged.

Responsible for his death, when he should have protecting him from such.

Qui-Gon would not blame him, had not blamed him, but the padawan blamed himself. Release of guilt into the Force might come, eventually, but not now. Not while cradling his master's body.

He kneeled on the slick, cold floor, holding his master in his arms as silent tears dripped down his face. His master – the one who had searched the galaxy for him, had freed him, and had died because of him. His teacher, companion, and beloved father figure. Now dead, dead in his arms, clasped to his heart.

It was his fault. He had, again, failed. He should have been at his master's side.

He had defeated the Sith, but at great cost – he had almost descended into the dark side by giving in to the lure of hot rage after he lost his master. If only he hadn't been knocked out of the fight, he thought – if only he had remained steadfast and strong, at his master's side.

He would face his regrets, his failure later. _Now_ belonged to his master. _Now_ was the time for tears, _now_ was the time to mourn the one he loved more than life itself. Later, he would put his grief behind him, accept and release it into the Force.

Yet even as he grieved, deep within himself he knew Qui-Gon was at peace. A Jedi faced death as he faced life, with acceptance and courage. A Jedi did not fear death, for to be at one with the Force was to be a part of everything, and everyone left behind. Qui-Gon was now a part of Obi-Wan.

This knowledge should have brought Obi-Wan peace in turn, but peace would not come.

His grief was deep and personal, and he would have to come to terms with it, even as the Jedi within him sought to accept it and transform his grief into acceptance.

He drew on that newfound total connection to the Force he had found as he hung by two hands in the melting pit as death clawed at his feet waiting for his arms to weaken and drop him into its waiting maw; drew on the Force to stop the shivers creeping up his spine.

It had saved him from the Sith; it would have to steady him as he grieved at his fallen master's side.

Here alone, he would allow himself to indulge in that grief for a brief moment; allow his chest to constrict with pain, his throat to tighten, and his eyes to blur with his tears. Here, he would allow himself to be a man before he was a Jedi and accept the pain, before he released it into the Force and found the strength to be a Jedi again.

"I'm so sorry, Master. I failed you," he breathed as he wept, closing his eyes against the pain. "How I wish…I could trade places with you. I love you, you know."

Obi-Wan brought his eyes back to Qui-Gon's clammy and pale face. The eyelids lay closed, hiding those brilliant icy blue eyes. Closed? It gradually sunk in on him – Qui-Gon's eyes were closed. Closed – not staring in the vacant stare of death! He had seen death too many times not to know.

Qui-Gon was not dead!

Quickly switching his attention from his grief to his master, the young Jedi laid his forehead against that of the older Jedi, not wanting to let go the hold his hands had on Qui-Gon, but needing to touch, to seek within. A flicker of Force reached out and found a wavering flicker within the still body. Qui-Gon was dreadfully hurt, but alive.

Obi-Wan gently lowered the man's body to the ground and grabbed for his comlink, thumbing it to "broadcast on all open channels." At a minimum, it would reach the nearest medical center and enforcement agency; they kept a line open at all times. It was standard protocol on all Republic planets, ratified by treaty.

He would invoke Jedi authority under that same treaty. His words would be given immediate priority, even on planets that had never seen a Jedi.

"This is a Jedi declaring a medical emergency. Send a healer right away to –," he looked around, "Theed hangar - the melting chamber across the power station from the hangar. Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, human male, needs urgent medical care. Repeat, this is a Jedi calling for immediate medical assistance."

He thumbed off the button, and added desperately, softly, "Please…please hurry."

Both their cloaks were back in the hanger; he had nothing to shield Qui-Gon from the cold floor. At least he had no need of bandages to staunch blood loss, for a lightsaber wound such as had pierced his master's chest would have cauterized the entrance and exit wounds.

Qui-Gon Jinn would not bleed to death. Infection and organ failure were his enemies.

He quickly unfastened Qui-Gon's belt to allow him access to the wound. He hesitated: should he remove the tunic entirely and leave the man lying on the cold floor or push under the clothing layers using his senses and fingers to guide him? Obi-Wan decided on the second option.

With one hand he gently slid the tunic up and away from the broad chest. Coarse chest hair was curled and brittle, singed from the intense heat and it flaked at the touch of his hand. Tendrils of wispy smoke wafted from the blackened skin edges surrounding a hole half as thick around as the young Jedi's arm.

With his other hand Obi-Wan fumbled in his belt for the medkit sure to be there – Qui-Gon would have presented him with a freshly stocked belt with the latest and best of everything. There was a small vial of bacta within, and he uncapped it and poured it, red and viscous, into the terrible wound. The smell, sweet and cloying and mixing with the smell of charred flesh filled his nose, and he stifled the urge to sneeze.

With hands that didn't dare to tremble in their task, he slapped a pad over the open wound and affixed it in place.

No one had yet come to Qui-Gon's aid. His comlink remained silent. For now, it was up to him, and him alone, to assure his master's survival. He would not allow himself to fail at this.

"Please, please Master…hang on, just hang on…please," he mumbled as he worked, hardly aware that he was mouthing a silent plea to the Force.

He carefully rolled Qui-Gon onto his side to allow him to repeat the process with the rear exit wound, this time using the bacta from Qui-Gon's own belt. Obi-Wan groaned as the thick fluid spread down his master's back rather than into the wound. He didn't dare turn Qui-Gon too far, so he cupped his hand to catch the fluid, scooped and pressed it into the wound. He could feel droplets ooze through his fingers as he worked, slowly sliding down his hand like a river of thick blood to his wrist, staining the cuff of his sleeve.

Keeping his hand pressed tight, he fumbled for another bandage, another adhesive strip to hold it into place and then gently settled the Jedi master back onto the ground. He had done as much as he could. He wiped his sleeve across his eyes, and the bacta-smeared cuff left traces of the goo on his cheek.

He kneeled next to his master, wanting to go flee for help and needing to stay at his master's side. He had done all he could; Qui-Gon needed more. He needed a surgeon.

The young Jedi was reaching for his comlink again when several guards and a healer came bursting through into the room. They hurried to his side and Obi-Wan scooted back to allow the healer room to work, hurriedly giving information on the wound.

"Bacta?" the healer asked, sniffing the drops of sticky fluid splattered on the floor. He lifted the wounded man's tunic; looked at Obi-Wan as he saw the hasty bandaging and traces of sticky red fluid.

Obi-Wan nodded silent agreement. The healer checked Qui-Gon's vital signs, sighed, and looked at Obi-Wan.

"You Jedi are pretty strong folk. He's got a chance. Let's move him, now." He quickly barked orders, and the Jedi was carefully lifted into the gravstretcher they had brought with them. "Oh, and good job on that wound. You might have saved his life with your quick thinking."

"I…the Queen?" Obi-Wan asked quietly, torn between staying with Qui-Gon and seeing his mission through.

"Safe, I believe. The Viceroy and his minions have been captured, and this man is going straight to surgery. Nothing more you can do for him; come by after he's out of surgery." The healer looked at Obi-Wan's hands, peered closely.

"Oh, thought you had bloody hands there. Bacta, of course. We've got to go. We'll take good care of your Jedi." They quickly disappeared; with Obi-Wan's worried eyes following them.

Obi-Wan sighed and slumped back to the ground. The adrenaline flush of battle had faded and he was exhausted, and not just from the actual physical battle. He had had to fight himself – his rage and despair. It had taken most of his remaining strength, and now worry for his master drained what remained.

He looked at his hands, red with bacta.

"Bloody hands," the healer had thought. Obi-Wan frowned.

He had killed another living being. He had never been forced to kill before – he had always managed to wound or disarm, or destroy only droids, but he had never taken a life. The young Jedi suddenly shuddered. He had taken an irrevocable step, and he would never be the same.

He had done his duty, but he would have to come to terms with the cost. Some other time. He still had a mission to complete. He was a Jedi, before all else. He would do what he had to do. He could do nothing less. He would find the strength, somewhere.

The remaining guard stood by his side, patiently waiting, silently noting the wet track of tears down the young man's cheeks.

He didn't know Jedi cried.

He offered the Jedi a hand up, careful to grab him by the forearm rather than sticky hand.

"Wipes – that pocket," Obi-Wan said, nodding at a compartment in his belt, willing himself to focus on what he needed to do, not where he wished to be. "Please."

The guard silently removed several wipes and helped Obi-Wan clean his hands. He finally ventured a question, "that… being?" He had been with the Queen's party and had seen the red and black tattooed being; he had felt the malevolence concealed within.

Obi-Wan merely nodded his head over to the hollow chamber mere feet from them.

"Dead? You – did you kill him?"

"Yes," he said quietly. Hollowly, for there was no emotion left within him. "I had no choice."

He leaned over and picked up Qui-Gon's belt, left lying on the floor. The Jedi master's lightsaber lay where Obi-Wan had dropped it. He picked it up and silently clipped it to his belt. He hoped it would soon return to its rightful master's side.

They left by another access. Obi-Wan didn't spare a look behind. He would leave his doubts, his fears, and his anger behind him. A Jedi moved forward, never looked back.

He would do what he must, just like he would complete his mission. Just like he had let the healer take Qui-Gon away, remaining behind, though he desperately wanted to accompany them. Just like he had killed another living being. Because in each case there was no real choice.

"Is it possible for me to see the Queen?" he asked, turning serious eyes to the guard's concerned ones. "After that, I need access to a long range transmitter to contact the Jedi Temple. I must make a report to them."

The man merely nodded, and led him outside. The sun shone overhead and a few brave birds twittered and chirped above the barren streets, still lined with gaily colored boxes of flowers, now drooping and fading from neglect. They spoke eloquently of the absence of once cheerful bustle. The wide streets, the plaza, were largely empty, still, with little sign of life. The Naboo had not yet returned. There had not been enough time to free them from the prison camps.

The battle for Naboo was over in several hours; restoring everything would take days.

The guard escorted Obi-Wan across the plaza and towards the wide, grand entrance to Theed palace. The sun was warm on Obi-Wan's back: comfortable and companionable warmth, not the blistering heat of Tatooine that scorched and burned. This gentle warmth and the light touch of a breeze soothed him in a way, as if the Force itself was smiling on him, whispering: all will yet be well; here is warmth to melt the icy dread in your heart that is your fear for your master.

It was a beautiful, sunny day that whispered it knew nothing of death or pain, yet it was a day that had seen both.

Obi-Wan reached for the peace the sun promised, reached for the Force and let it wash the rest of his emotions away, to leave him calm and prepared.

The palace was ornate and imposing, beautiful in its lines. Their boot steps echoed through spacious hallways. Statues and artwork graced the walls. Windows stretched nearly from the floor to the ceiling, letting sunlight splash across the beautifully patterned tile floors.

They ascended a wide, sweeping and curved staircase to another level and the two men entered a large columned room, the Throne Room, where the Queen stood. She was in deep conversation with her advisors, no doubt finalizing the freeing of her people from the camps, but she broke off her conversation at the sight of the young Jedi, silent, solemn and solitary.

Warm brown eyes looked at him, then at the spot beside him where his master should be and the belt still dangling from his hand.

"Qui-Gon?" she asked, sudden concern in her eyes.

"Master Jinn was terribly hurt and the healers have taken him to your medical center," he said, bowing his head before her. "You are safe and the palace secure, Your Highness? Do you require anything of me before I go to him?"

"I am safe, Master – Kenobi, is it? The Viceroy and his aides are my captives and will be sent to the courts for trial." She looked at his sweat and bacta-stained tunic, tear-stained face, sad and serious eyes. She knew the answer, yet had to ask.

"That being you faced? He is dead?"

"He is dead," Obi-Wan affirmed. The Queen did not miss the pinched look that came over his face as he replied, and knew Obi-Wan had dealt the fatal blow himself.

"I see," she said softly. "You are hurt." She came towards him and reached a finger to his face, to wipe the smear of bacta off.

It wasn't a question, but a recognition of the pain the young Jedi was trying valiantly to hide within himself. Obi-Wan misunderstood.

"No, I'm not hurt, it's bacta," he said, managing to dredge up a sorry ghost of a smile at her touch.

"May Naboo offer you anything in recognition of your service?"

"Access to a long range transmitter is all I require; then I wish to go to Master Jinn's side," he said quietly.

"Of course. We will speak later," the queen said, studying his face, seeing a man drained of energy, moving on little more than sheer will power. "Sio, please direct our Jedi to the transmitter, will you, then see that he gets escorted to the medical center. Governor Sio Bibble is one of my closest advisors."

Sio had easily seen six or more decades of life. He was balding and white haired, dignified with a white beard. Wise eyes that could twinkle with gentle joy or stare with angry contempt at a Neomoidian took measure of the young Jedi, and he purposely bowed, recognizing in the young Jedi a man who had faced his personal demons and still stood on two feet, even if almost swaying on them, almost unbeknownst to himself.

Obi-Wan bowed to the Queen, and followed the governor, striding down the long hall to a small room. Sio gestured within, and indicated he would wait outside.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said softly, and sat in a seat trying to compose himself. With a sigh, he punched in the code for the Temple and was redirected to the Council chamber.

The hologram flickered into being and he saw the twelve masters looking appraisingly at him. He quickly stood and bowed to them.

"Young Obi-Wan, pleased are we to see you alive and well," Yoda said gravely. "However, a report you have for us from Naboo?"

"Masters…." Memories flooded him, of times facing the Council in that very chamber, his master at his side. He swallowed; his throat was suddenly dry.

_Breathe, find your calm center_, he reminded himself.

"Naboo has been freed and the Queen is safe, but Master Qui-Gon Jinn has been terribly injured. I do not yet know his condition, but he was felled by the Sith that my master previously encountered. I - have slain that being, myself."

"Young Kenobi that is grave news," Mace Windu said, leaning forward. "This is hardly how we expected to acknowledge your return. You, too, think this being was a Sith?"

"I don't know, Master, but he was very skilled, carried a double-bladed lightsaber, and was powerful with the Force. It is not impossible, and my master is rarely wrong." He remembered the cold rage that washed through the Force. "He was a Sith, Masters," he said, suddenly certain.

He gave a preliminary report, noting additional information would be appended later.

The council members looked at each other and there seemed to be a quiet conference going on. Mace indicated Obi-Wan was free to sit as he waited, so he sat patiently, waiting for direction.

He wanted to get to his master's side but knew he would not be able to see him for some time, until he was out of surgery. He fixated on a drop of bacta under a nail that he had failed to remove earlier.

"To Naboo we will come," Yoda suddenly said. "More of this being we wish to know, from you and your master both, but disturb Qui-Gon by moving him here we will not do."

Obi-Wan bowed his head. "Yes, Master."

"Young Obi-Wan," Yoda added, and waited until the young Jedi looked up. "A life you have taken. Necessary it was, yes?" The wise old eyes studied the younger man's face, his quiet "yes" of acknowledgment.

"Fret not on it. Contact you myself later I will, if you permit it?" At Obi-Wan's nod, the little master's ears swiveled. "May the Force be with you and your master, young padawan."

Obi-Wan buried his head in his hands as the hologram faded. He had never had to make a solitary report to the Council before, and to do so when he had not even seen the members in over five years, after he had killed and after he thought he had seen his master die in front of his eyes…it was overwhelming.

He knew what he had to do. Again. Face and release his emotion. Qui-Gon had once told him that strong emotions rarely stayed released. When they returned, a Jedi re-released them. It was not a failure on his part, if he had to do this more than once.

So what all did he feel? He let the emotion wash over him, identified each one.

Exhaustion, for one. Only sleep would relieve that.

Worry. He was worried sick about Qui-Gon, worried sick about how close to releasing his anger he had been, worried sick that he had let his master down. He should have evaded that kick that sent him from his master's side. Would have, should have, could have….

Pain. He had taken the life of another living being. He had done it in self-defense, and he didn't regret it, but he had killed another.

Fear. He had been infused with rage when his master had been felled. His rage had propelled him forward; frantic determination had tried to temper the rage. Only the sure knowledge that he had failed and was about to die, defeated by his own emotion as much as his lack of skill, had quenched it. Was it truly defeated, fully, finally and for all time?

Facing his death, he had defeated his rage and in so doing, had prepared to live, rather than die. He found strength and purpose in defeat, and found that sure connection to the Force he had come so close to having, but never quite achieved.

The Force showed him how to live and save himself, once he had defeated his anger.

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, and as many more as it took to breath out all his worry and fears, but feeling them fall away from him.

Again.

Sio Bibble was waiting patiently for him out in the hallway. The wise eyes studied him calmly. In his many years, Sio had seen many things. He had remained behind when Jedi Master Jinn had freed the Queen, her handmaidens and a handful of guards on their march from the palace to a prison camp, leaving them at the Theed hangar to do what he could for the Queen and the Naboo people by remaining behind.

He saw the barely concealed weariness and tension in the slight slump of the young Jedi's shoulders, the lines of strain around the fatigued blue-gray eyes and the stains of bacta on his tunic. The Jedi had a young man's face, with old and weary eyes.

"I can escort you to the suite of rooms the Queen set aside for the Chancellor's ambassador, or I can see that you get to the medical center. Which would you prefer, Master Kenobi?"

Confusion replaced the emotions Obi-Wan had so recently released. So recently a slave, now called by an honorific and offered assistance of his choosing – it was enough to make him dizzy.

"I should like to be with my master," he said firmly. Sio Bibble only nodded, and walked him to a guardsman who was put at Obi-Wan's disposal.

On the short trip to the medical center, Obi-Wan knew the news he would hear there would have a dramatic impact on his life, for better or worse. He would find out if Qui-Gon would live, or if his efforts to save him had been in vain.


	2. The Living Force

At the medical center, Obi-Wan tried hard to refrain from breaking into a run to the surgical ward. His boot steps clacked in a fast rhythm as he hurried forward, held back by a sense of decorum as much as anything. He strode up the counter and gently coughed to get the attention of the woman buried deep in datapads, her head resting wearily on her hand and her shoulders slumped.

She looked up, startled and quickly got to her feet. Her badge identified her as an Assistant Healer. She looked harried and tired, and the young Jedi quickly understood that most of the medical personnel had been taken away with the rest of the population. Those who had remained were overworked, anxious and exhausted. Even so, she greeted him courteously enough.

"Naboo is free," he said immediately, offering what good news he could, in case word had not reached the medical center.

"Thank you, I know," she said, and a tired smile broke over her face. "They're bringing back the medical personnel and injured right away. You're a Jedi, right?"

She hadn't seen the lightsaber hanging from his belt; her back had been turned when he had come up to the counter and now it hid his lower body. Was it the braid that had given him away? His style of dress was uncommon on this planet from what he had seen. The simple style was unique to the Jedi, yet not much different from other common styles in the galaxy where simplicity and comfort were valued.

"You're not Naboo, and the man in surgery is a Jedi. I understand there are often two of you working together," she said by way of explanation. "Besides, I took your comm call. Outgoing calls are – were – blocked. I couldn't reply."

Of course. Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you for sending prompt assistance. I was…worried."

He still was, the healer saw. His worry fought with his fatigue. The Jedi was steady enough on his feet, but his eyes were gray with exhaustion, and she hurried to reassure him.

"Surgery is going well. Thank you, for your help in freeing us."

"I did nothing to free Naboo," he demurred. "The Naboo and the Gungans working together did that. I merely…fought, and I survived."

She noted he didn't even smile at that; perhaps he was even more exhausted than she thought, to be so indifferent to his own fate. Too tired, perhaps too modest, or perhaps just too worried about his companion.

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" she said with a little laugh. The Jedi seemed quite a pleasant young man, well spoken and courteous, not to mention good-looking if she was a few years younger. Bad things shouldn't happen to nice people, but after the Trade Federation took over, she had seen that too many times it had.

To her surprise, the young Jedi just nodded absently. Perhaps he just had more important things on his mind than his own life, she thought.

"Your Jedi Master Jinn is expected out of surgery shortly. He has a very good chance of recovering," she said gently, and was pleased to see a slight smile bloom in his face. "He will be taken down to that room – 504 – when he's out of post-op. You may wait there if you wish."

"Thank you." Obi-Wan forced a tired smile onto his face and turned away. Making a sudden decision, he headed down the corridor, in search of a fresh plant or flowers to place in the room. His face twisted in memory of how Qui-Gon so loved fresh plants at his bedside. He would find something to cheer his master up during his recovery.

He found a deserted gift shop with a nursery, connected to the gardens. He roamed among the green and living plants there. What cut blooms remained in vases were dry and drooping, neglected with the movement of all unnecessary personnel to the prison camps. Only some of the healers and surgeons, and sickest of the patients had been allowed to remain in the medical center.

Obi-Wan began to understand Qui-Gon's fondness for green and living things as he wandered amongst the benches. He had been on a dry desert planet for so long, he had forgotten the life energy contained within plant life.

On Coruscant, at the Temple, the gardens had always been in the background, unobtrusive and rarely protruding into his consciousness. So much of the Temple radiated peace and serenity – the gardens, the burbling fountains and the presence of so many Jedi. The air was almost alive with the Force, for it had been home to the Jedi for thousands of years, and the life force – the Force itself – was strong within its walls.

Suddenly, the young Jedi wanted to be back in the Temple, surrounded by its peace and familiar things. However, he knew a Jedi could find peace and serenity anywhere, when he accepted the Force. It was not time for him to return, so he dismissed his longing.

Here, surrounded by plants, he would search for that serenity; here he could feel closer to his master. He cleared his mind and switched into an awareness of the Living Force and wandered slowly, fingers outstretched and mind reaching for peace.

He found himself coming back to full awareness, as if he had been in a trance, to find he was carefully tending a neglected and all but dead plant, carefully pinching off dead leaves and dripping water into parched soil. The plant greedily sucked life into itself and unfurled with an almost audible snap.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Yes, Qui-Gon, I understand, he thought. This plant, nearly dead, fought for life, small green shoots pushing through brittle and brown leaves, proclaiming: I live still.

This was the plant he would take to Qui-Gon's side. Together, side by side, the plant and Jedi could fight for life and each take as well as give strength to the other.

There was no one to purchase the plant from, and Obi-Wan looked around uncertainly. He did not want to just take the plant without leaving something in return; then nodded.

He would pay for it, but not in currency. Feeling strangely happy, he tended the plants as he had so often watched his master tend plants, gently soaking the plants in water, pinching off dead leaves, adding fertilizer he found in a cabinet.

As he left, he took a look around. He could feel the plants coming alive, and he smiled. He had taken life, but he had also given it back. It wasn't the same, but it was something. The Force had led him here, to find peace.

He carefully carried the small plant, cradling it within two hands as if it was the most precious thing he had ever held within his hands back to the room where his master would be. Where Qui-Gon would live.

He set it on the bedside table, near the light from the window and then sprawled in a chair. At last he could give in to his fatigue and rest. The fight, as well as his internal struggle to release his fear and anger had left him running on little more than will power.

Here in this quiet room, with dappled sunlight lying across his face, he could forget his worries for a while, for the healer had said that surgery was going well. He closed his eyes. He was no more than half asleep and still half awake, unable to forget the sight of Qui-Gon in a crumpled heap on the floor or the Sith falling away from him with eyes stunned with his recognition of his death at the hand of a mere Jedi apprentice, when a droid rolled in.

"Jedi Kenobi? Jedi Master Yoda of the Jedi Temple is trying to reach you. Follow me, please."

Instantly on his feet, Obi-Wan followed the droid down the hall and into the small office indicated. He punched "accept message, hologram" and Yoda flickered into view.

"Master Yoda," Obi-Wan bowed. Face to face with the little master, he felt a flicker of joy within his heart. When he had spoken to the Council before, he had been reporting to them all. Now he was conversing with Yoda himself, and other than the ghostly blue blur, it was like the old master was standing just a few feet away from him, wise old eyes nodding gently at him.

He could almost feel the Jedi's Force presence wrapping around him, comforting him.

"Obi-Wan. Tired you look, sit. Speak to you as an old friend, I wish, our long lost padawan. Welcome you back to the Jedi personally, I do and offer you counsel if need it you do."

The little Jedi master "harrumphed," and cleared his throat. "First, what news of your master have you?"

Obi-Wan felt tears fight for release behind his eyes. Master Yoda had always been kind to him. How he had wished to see him, talk to him again, but not in these circumstances. He carefully sat, clasping his hands loosely in his lap.

"My master is given a good chance of recovering. I cling to that hope."

"Ah. Hope for the best I do. Leave soon for Naboo, the Council does. A complete report will be expected of you then and of Master Jinn if he is able. But of this Sith and his death I wish now to speak. To kill another being - necessary it may be but easy it is not. Know this well, I do. How deal you with it? How feel you?"

"Numb," Obi-Wan admitted unhappily, feeling it was not the answer Yoda expected. "And…yet I am unable to forget seeing his body tumbling down the shaft, cleft in two, Master Yoda. I feel no satisfaction, but I am not sad. Should I not be?"

Yoda was silent, looking at Obi-Wan consideringly. "Each faces it differently. Indifference would be wrong. Numbness? What makes you numb?"

"Too much emotion," Obi-Wan whispered. It was not a proper answer for a Jedi, he thought, but he would be honest and open with Yoda. He could be no other way.

"Fear, anger, sadness…worry. So much worry. I released it, as a Jedi should, and now there is nothing left."

"Ah." The soft exclamation gave little away. Yoda leaned on his stick. "Your battle – tell me of it – not the fight, but your feelings as it progressed."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan gathered his thoughts.

"Confidence. Qui-Gon and I knew we could take him together. Not confidence born of arrogance, but of calm focus and knowledge of our duty. Irritation when I was kicked aside momentarily. Determination to end the battle, and frustration when I thought we had the Sith cornered and he got away. Concentration on saving myself when I was knocked off a catwalk into a potentially deadly fall and relief when I grabbed hold of a catwalk. Desperation when I saw Qui-Gon carry on the fight far from me. Concern when I saw how weary he looked when we were all trapped between separate energy gates."

His master was one of the best swordsmen he had ever seen, strong and smart, but the man who beat impossible odds and won all his battles was tiring in front of his padawan's eyes. Obi-Wan had stared over his master's bent back down the corridor, through the red haze of the energy fields, and seen glee in the Sith's eyes. A ferocious gleam of delight as if he knew he was gaining the upper hand, and delighting in it. An animal, sensing the kill was about to be made: the prey, his master.

Obi-Wan shook himself away from the memory of those eyes, and the feel of his heart thumping in his throat at the time.

"An...anguish when I saw Qui-Gon apparently die while I was still trapped helpless behind an energy gate. Sheer determination and…and rage, when I was free to fight on, avenge my master's death. Relief that I seemed to be holding my own and sudden desperate fear when I knew I was about to die, as I saw my lightsaber vanish into the depths beyond my reach."

"And then?" Yoda quietly prodded him.

"I found peace. I was calm. I knew I could die as a Jedi, accepting my end, or I could connect to the Force and save myself; live as a Jedi. I felt the Force as I never felt it before," Obi-Wan almost sounded awed as he remembered the feeling surge through him, "and I knew how to live. I called Qui-Gon's lightsaber to my hand and catapulted myself over the Sith and swung with all my strength. Our eyes connected as he died…and I watched his body tumble down the shaft I had just escaped from."

"Your feelings?" prompted Yoda.

"I thought I had never known the power of the Force before that moment," Obi-Wan said softly. "I knew then how much I have still to learn."

"Humph. And now numb you feel."

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't…I should feel regret, but with everything…." Obi-Wan shrugged wearily, unable to finish his sentence.

"Exhausted you are. Understandable that is. Even Jedi tire," and Yoda gave a little chuckle. "If had to kill another being again, how feel you at the thought?"

"I hope I never have to," Obi-Wan said before he could think. He wondered if Yoda saw the soft tremor that ran through him. He hesitated, and then had to ask. "I was angry and scared, Master Yoda, after that Sith nearly killed Qui-Gon. Have I failed my training?"

His eyes were calm and serious, focused on Yoda's and every cell in his body was tuned to the little master's response.

"Fear, rage…even Jedi feel these," was Yoda's response. "It is whether a Jedi puts them aside, or does not, that is important. To take a life while submerged in the Force, wrong it is not. Not when there are no other choices, no options. Failed, young Obi-Wan? No, upheld your training you did, by putting them aside. Controlled them you did. Well, you have done."

Obi-Wan could not hold back a small sigh of relief.

Yoda only scowled. "Rest you should, young Obi-Wan. Rest, I expect you will not as long as Master Qui-Gon is unwell. The Council will see you in a few days." Yoda grumbled deep in his throat, cleared it.

"Happy I am, that Qui-Gon found and freed you. Too long missing you were. Home, you are coming and glad I am. May the Force be with you and your master, young one." Yoda signed off, still scowling and growling away.

The old troll was truly pleased, and Obi-Wan smiled. Speaking to Yoda was almost as good as seeing him in the flesh. With a soft smile still on his face, he returned to the room prepared for Qui-Gon, only to find his master resting there. The attendants were just finishing hanging IV's and attaching leads from Qui-Gon to various monitors.

The healer saw Obi-Wan and smiled at him.

"He's doing pretty well for someone with that kind of wound. Between the cauterizing effect of the weapon and the bacta you immediately applied…well, he's got a pretty good chance of coming out of this okay but he will have a long convalescence. He probably won't wake for several days since we've pumped him full of drugs. You might want to get some rest and clean up, and come back later."

The healer's eyes rested on the bacta patches staining Obi-Wan's tunic and the tiny smear still across his face.

"You're sure you weren't hurt yourself, were you?" he asked, coming closer and dabbing at the smear on Obi-Wan's face and checking his hands.

"Kicked a little, skidded across a floor, nothing serious," Obi-Wan said. "Thanks, doc."

He was beginning to ache a bit, but he was used to that. He had been hurt far worse than this before, and might be again. He would have some bruises to show from the fight, but bruises faded and went away.

He waited until the healer and attendants left, and then pulled up a chair next to Qui-Gon's bedside. Laying a hand on his master's still hand so as to feel the life energy flowing within, he leaned back in his chair and prepared for a long vigil. Before long, his head nodded and he fell asleep.

This time, he did not dream – he saw neither the Sith falling away from him or his master lying as if dead on a cold floor.

He dreamed of the Jedi Temple, and reuniting with his friends and colleagues.


	3. Life Does Go On

**Qui-Gon**

I had spent much time studying the Whills and thought I was prepared for the shift into life in the Force. I hadn't had time enough to entirely prepare, so I expected to become a mere observer, no longer a participant in the lives of those I loved. Any influence I would have on those still living would be filtered through the Force itself, according to its will.

Nothing in my studies had prepared me for the pain transitioning from physical life to life in the Force. I hadn't expected this – stab of pain in my middle. I groaned, and a strong hand clasped one of mine – warm, comforting, and all too real.

"Shhhh…you're badly hurt. Lie still; try to release the pain into the Force." The voice was strangely familiar, yet different. It sounded like Obi-Wan, but with a subtle maturity about it that was new and tender concern.

"What…why?" I tried to whisper, my hand reaching out blindly and connecting with his face. His callused hand was laid over mine and I could feel the muscles of his jaw work under my palm as he smiled. I felt the soft silk of whiskers underneath my hand and was surprised to feel them.

Had we both died, then, or did we both live?

"Dead?" I had trouble forming the words. "We're both dead?"

A soft chuckle preceded his words. "No, Master. You were almost killed...but you survived. Thank the Force, you survived. Not without a huge hole in you, but I prefer that to the huge hole in my heart that was the alternative."

Ah, a pathetic attempt at humor from my padawan, but heartfelt.

I struggled to open my eyes and saw a blurry, smiling face leaning over me, soft tears being blinked away. I reached a finger to his lashes and brushed one away.

"Too many," I whispered hoarsely. I saw he didn't understand. "Tears – too many. Been…too many."

"It's okay, there's plenty more where these came from," Obi-Wan said, trying to grin, as he dashed the back of his hand across his eyes. "The supply is not limited."

My eyes were focusing a bit now, and I saw his blood shot eyes, the stubble on his face, the general air of untidiness that surrounded him. Despite all this, he looked – older, calmer, and complete. He looked – like a knight, his own man now, confident and strong in his abilities.

I remembered he had battled a Sith, alone, after my injury – and I had thought he had died doing so. I had seen him, flying over the edge of the pit into certain death. At that moment, I remembered I had welcomed my own death, for I would be reunited with Obi-Wan forever, in the Force.

"You're not dead!" I exclaimed, remembering his tumble. I tried to sit up, to wrap both hands around his face, but he shook his head and pushed me back down against the pillow with a gentle hand. He did allow me to grab one of his hands and hold it tight between mine.

"I saw you get thrown," I said haltingly. "I knew you were dead, and I wanted nothing more from life but to join you in death, in the Force. Padawan, you have no idea how incredibly painful it was to have just found you, only to lose you. And then, when I was letting go, you took me in your arms and I knew you were alive."

Yes, I had seen him die, and then I had felt his arms tender around me. It was coming back. My padawan had survived his encounter with the Sith, and had saved me. He had willed strength, and the will to live, back into my body. He had cried for me.

"And I, you," he breathed, and I felt the shudder within him.

"You are the reason I live, Obi-Wan, shhh…," I silenced his soft words of denial, "I couldn't leave you again, not again, not so soon after finding you."

"What about young Anakin?" His tone was softly teasing, and I knew he wasn't jealous. My padawan knew nothing of such emotions, I thought. It was possible - perhaps he had been, once, but if so he would have recognized and quickly released such an emotion. "He is, after all, your Chosen One."

"I would have left him to your care," I said. "A sign of my love for you, and the trust I have in you. My confidence in your abilities, padawan mine."

All this talk was clearing the hazy edges of my memories, and I winced in recollection. Obi-Wan settled me back on the pillow with a worried frown, but I waved him away, for I was not in physical pain. I had just thought of the ramifications of what I had just remembered – we had fought a Sith, and Obi-Wan had obviously killed him, to be sitting by my side.

As a Jedi, and as a slave no doubt, he had seen many terrible things. He had seen the results of greed and anger, he had seen death and destruction, and he had been forced to wield his lightsaber in defense of innocent beings.

But Obi-Wan had never been forced to kill a living being before this, and I knew his heart must be uneasy, for the knowledge that one has taken the life of another is not an easy burden to bear. Even for a Jedi.

"The Sith?"

He bowed his head.

"Dead," he said softly and a small flicker of pain came through the Force. I understood. Obi-Wan had no regrets, but he regretted the necessity of taking a life. It was the first sentient life he had taken, and I had not been there to help him deal with it. No matter our training, killing another living being was not easy to face; I ached at being absent when he needed me.

"Don't be," he said, as if picking up on my sorrow. "Master Yoda and I spoke about it."

I was grateful for that. There was some kind of bond between my padawan and Yoda. I had never been jealous of it for it merely complemented the bond between Obi-Wan and I. It was a bond born of affection and trust, and I was always half surprised that Obi-Wan had no such bond with many others, for my padawan's trust and affection were freely bestowed on so many.

"Good," I said weakly. "So you're handling it okay?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "There were no options. It had to be done." I saw a muscle twitch in his jaw, but he otherwise showed no emotion. I didn't know if he had truly released his emotion into the Force, or had just shoved it inside as he worried about me. I would have to speak to him later, when I had the strength to do so.

Obi-Wan seemed to know that I was still concerned, and he smoothly deflected the talk away from such troubling memories. He advised that the entire Jedi Council had come to Naboo to pursue this talk of a Sith and were anxious to see me.

He suddenly smiled, and asked if I felt up to seeing someone. I nodded, and Obi-Wan helped raise me against my pillows and straightened the bedding about me. He again clasped my hand in his, before he went to the door and disappeared out it.

I took advantage of his absence to look around me. I was lying in a standard medical bed, several machines hooked up to me, and I realized I was in a hospital. It wasn't the Jedi Temple's healers ward, so it had to be a medical center in Theed, on Naboo.

Nearby, next to the machine keeping track of my heart beat – I was alive, it said, and I grinned in amused agreement - stood a little green plant struggling to live, green shoots reaching towards the light and the soft buds of new leaves starting to form. I found it strangely cheering.

It looked much as I felt, a wounded life seeking to renew itself. Obi-Wan. I knew who placed the plant there, and I was touched at my padawan's thoughtfulness. Anyone else would have found a plant already rich and full in life.

Only Obi-Wan would find a wounded and determined life to place at my side. Together, we would fight and together we would give each other strength.

I lifted the sheet and winced at the bandage covering my chest. It spanned quite an area. I gingerly touched the bandage. I decided that was not such a good idea, for it ached abominably as I did so. I had been impaled by the Sith's lightsaber; I must have had more drugs in me than – than there were midichlorians in Anakin!

I suddenly wondered how long I had been lying here, but before I could explore that idea much further, the door to the room opened.

Obi-Wan was ushering in Anakin, his hands firm on the boy's shoulders and I smiled at the sight, for I so wanted the two of them to get along.

Anakin glanced over his shoulder at my padawan, and Obi-Wan smiled encouragingly at him and gave him a little shove towards me. Acting protectively, I noticed, and Anakin was looking to him for reassurance. I felt relieved that this young boy, among strangers, was well tended.

"Come here, Ani," I said. "It does my heart good to see you."

"Qui-Gon, sir," he gulped and came to my bedside. Obi-Wan drew up a chair and gently pushed Anakin into it, leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Anakin grinned, and his fears seemed to fall away.

"Obi-Wan said you were skewered by that Sith," he said with all the excitement a young boy might have, without a thought of censoring his thoughts as he spoke them. Obi-Wan winced at his words, but I merely winked at him.

"This bandage appears to confirm his diagnosis," I said with a chuckle. "It apparently missed everything vital, since I'm lying here with two worried faces looking at me."

"I'm not worried," Anakin said stoutly. "He is, though," and he nodded to Obi-Wan.

The look my padawan shot at Anakin seemed to say: And you weren't? Anakin stared calmly back, not giving anything away. I chuckled weakly at the byplay.

"Not any longer, Master," Obi-Wan assured me, shaking his head at Anakin. "The healers say you'll recover just fine, but you were on the edge for a while. I was – a bit concerned – for the longest time."

"Liar," I said affectionately, calling him on his understatement. I had heard the barely concealed tremor in his voice. "You probably haven't eaten or slept, which is why you look exhausted and worn out, not to mention – a right mess."

As expected, Obi-Wan's hands went to smooth his tunic and he looked startled, then he relaxed and grinned at me, saying nonchalantly that he supposed so. I raised an eyebrow at how calmly he took that – he of the constant need to be neat and tidy.

"I will go clean myself up to my master's satisfaction," he said wryly, "and leave you two to get caught up." He looked at me and I could see in his eyes that he felt Anakin needed to talk with me and he was looking for an excuse to leave the two of us alone. He patted my hand and left.

"So, Ani," I smiled at him. "How are you doing?"

"Great! They're calling me the Hero of Naboo," he burst out, just bubbling with excitement. I raised an eyebrow; Obi-Wan and I had left him hiding in a ship in the Theed hangar while the Naboo battled to retake the Palace, and Obi-Wan and I had confronted the Sith.

"I destroyed the Droid Control ship, and because of me, Naboo is free," he declared proudly. "The Queen – Padme – is awfully proud of me, even if Obi-Wan wasn't pleased when he first found out."

"Why ever not?" I hid a smile at the look on his face.

"'Cuz you told me to stay hidden and out of the fight. He thought I disobeyed you, and he told me that is not how a Jedi should behave." He frowned; then just as suddenly beamed. "But he decided I wasn't a Jedi, at least not yet, and I saved everybody, so he decided not to be upset with me. 'Specially when I told him what happened."

Anakin squirmed a little.

I was amused. Obi-Wan had occasionally disobeyed my orders when he became aware of some need to act contrary to them, based on new information he had that I had not been aware of. That sounded like him, a reaction tempered by new knowledge that caused him to revise his first opinion. My padawan never felt locked into a decision when new information caused him to revise his first opinion.

"So he's being nice to you," I nodded, not that I doubted it. I did wonder if Obi-Wan had kept his usual distance, or had tried to unbend sufficiently to make Anakin feel at ease. When Anakin cocked his head to one side, thinking, I thought, "oh, oh."

"He's been nice enough to me," Anakin said slowly as if thinking hard. "But he's not you, or like Mom – but he tries hard. He's okay, I guess."

I snorted with laughter at Anakin's assessment of my padawan. It was a start, at least. I wouldn't be surprised if Obi-Wan thought the same of Anakin. Both of them were alike in many ways, so different in others.

One of the more interesting differences was their individual connection to the Force. Obi-Wan's midi-chlorian count would indicate that he would be a less effective user of the Force, while Anakin's extreme count could easily turn him into the most powerful Force user, perhaps ever. His connection was pure, and without effort.

Obi-Wan had worked hard to overcome his – I hated to call it a limitation – genetically lesser connection. His dedication and hard work made him more skilled than those with inherently greater gifts, in my opinion. Obi-Wan was proof positive that it wasn't one's natural abilities, but the exercise of those abilities that determined one's greatness.

Obi-Wan would be a great Jedi, for he had the heart, the wisdom and the dedication of a Jedi. Perfect, no. Not a perfect Jedi and not a perfect man. But a good Jedi and a good man. I foresaw him taking his place amongst the greatest of Jedi, a symbol of what one should aspire to be.

"So, Hero of Naboo, tell me how you destroyed the Droid Control ship," I said, leaning back and fixing my eyes on Anakin's blue eyes. I listened, amused, as he rattled on, telling me how he accidentally hit the wrong controls as he tried to take out the droidekas in the hangar, landed within the Droid Control ship, blasted the energy core and managed to return to Theed safely.

"I'm proud of you, Anakin," I said as he finished. His eyes shone brightly and he beamed as only a young boy could. He absolutely thrived on praise and acknowledgement, I realized.

The door opened and I saw Obi-Wan standing against the door jam, arms crossed and a smile on his face. He had washed and shaved, and dressed in clean clothes. My eyes went to his, and I smiled at him.

"Our young hero here has told me how he saved everyone," I said proudly, my hand resting over Anakin's. Obi-Wan's eyes dropped to it and he hid a grin, and he shook his head in mock dismay.

"He will be a very powerful Jedi. I'm very proud of him, but I hear you were less than thrilled," I teased him. Obi-Wan slightly grimaced as if I had reprimanded him, his eyes darkening. "He saved everyone, and you didn't like it."

"No, Master!" he protested, his eyes wide with shock, and I realized I had phrased my sentence badly. He seemed to realize, for he took a breath before continuing.

"He hadn't obeyed your orders to stay hidden and protected, and that was why I was upset. What if he had been killed or hurt – I knew how badly you would take it. He was lucky. He's just a boy."

"I'm not – I'm a hero," Anakin said sullenly, thrusting out his lower lip and glaring at my padawan.

Obi-Wan looked at me and rolled his eyes, making sure Anakin couldn't see him, before turning to look at Anakin.

"Yes, you were. Things would have gone badly for the Gungans had that droid control ship not been destroyed," my padawan agreed, but I could see the thought in his mind: pure luck. His words seemed to mollify Anakin, and he brightened back up.

"Anakin, I think you've tired out Qui-Gon. Let's let him rest," Obi-Wan suggested. He watched Anakin leave, and turned back to face me, solemn suddenly. He hesitated as if unsure how I'd react to his words, but determined to speak them anyway.

"Master, I…," he started; then gave a little shake of his head as I stared encouragingly at him. "I just want to say that you deserve to be called a hero, too. All the attention has been focused on Anakin, and, well, I think you're one, too." He smiled suddenly and turned to leave.

"Obi-Wan!" I said firmly, and he hesitated and looked over his shoulder.

"You're one, too."

He shrugged diffidently. "Not really, Master. I – almost lost control there. I almost failed you – my training, and then I wasn't at your side when you needed me. You might have died, for I was not at your side where I belonged. I lost my focus. I am sorry." His voice sounded strained and his eyes blinked apologetically at me.

He had been knocked out of the fight at least twice, and I at least once before the almost fatal blow I took. Battle was like that: unpredictable. My poor padawan thought he had erred; had let me down. He had to understand that was not so.

Even more hurtful to him was this fear he harbored of not controlling his emotion in battle. That was perhaps potentially more damaging than his fear of letting me down – it was a fear of letting himself, the Jedi, and the Force down as well. We both had known rage was an emotion sometimes triggered within him and something we had to disarm, so he could act from a position of strength and calm. I saw that he had; he was too close to it to see it.

He saw only his slide to his rage; I saw his wrestling control of it.

"Oh, Obi-Wan," my voice was a whisper. "Come here, padawan mine."

He came slowly, and stood by my side. I reached for his hand, and his hand extended to meet mine automatically. I wrapped my hand around his and looked him in the eyes. This was important. He had to know what I knew. He needed to understand it, in his heart.

'You felt hate and rage, but you didn't give in to them. It's okay to feel fear at how close you came to giving in to them. But you didn't give in to them. You centered yourself, Obi-Wan, you let it go. You are a Jedi, and I am proud of you. So don't doubt yourself, please."

I saw the hidden misery in Obi-Wan's eyes and I pulled him down beside him.

"Obi-Wan," I said softly, and reached out through our bond, speaking to him in a way that was incapable of deception or shaded truths. He acquiesced as both our shields dropped and we met mind to mind. After a few minutes, I nodded softly as Obi-Wan sighed.

He now knew, as he would never have been so sure before, that he hadn't failed. Sometimes, mere words alone didn't suffice. Even Yoda's gentle counsel hadn't quite banished his fear, for Yoda could only have offered words of support, words that would reach his mind, but would not ease his heart.

"You're okay, now." I smiled at him, as he nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He looked startled, then sheepish. "There was no rush, and I was more concerned with you. Yes, the entire Council has arrived and is much concerned with this dead Sith."

I wrapped my hand around his braid, so lovingly rewoven mere days ago and gave it a little tug. "It'll look good on my wall," I said musingly. "Now I have to hurry my recovery. I don't want Yoda to grow tired of waiting, and whack that off himself."

"It stays on until _you_ remove it, Master," my padawan said firmly.

"Then I shall speed my recovery, for I now have the greatest incentive to get well. I have so looked forward to standing at your side, Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi."

He dropped to his knees on the floor at my side and laid both his hands over mine.

"Thank you for all your guidance, my master. All that I am I owe to you." He tried to smile; he was holding in strong emotion, then he gave a slight shrug and with an embarrassed grin, wrapped his arms around me carefully and whispered, "MasterYoda says he'll bust me back to padawan if you don't recover."

"That old troll never said that," I chortled, a smile breaking over my face as I hugged him back, before I slid back down into the bed, flinching a bit at the movement. I yawned.

"Oh, and Anakin – it wasn't luck, padawan mine. It was the Force. He has powerful instincts. Trust him."

"I'm proud…so proud of you," I murmured, as I dropped off to sleep.


	4. Who Shall be the Master?

I had lain awake half the night, deep in meditation and thought, for the healers had spoken to me the prior evening. They assured me of my eventual recovery, but told me I would have a long convalescence ahead of me.

The battle with the Sith had already made me aware of my age. I was no longer a young man. I was slowly losing my strength as the silver in my hair increased. Now I needed to focus my strength on my recovery. How then could I guide young Anakin? The Chosen One needed careful tending, but with a master who could devote full attention to the task. That could not be me.

What strength I had within me had to be focused on fighting the Council on his behalf, but what then? I turned my eyes to the faint light shining through the windows and saw the plant that Obi-Wan had so thoughtfully placed at my bedside. Obi-Wan! Of course.

I felt a bit ashamed of myself of not thinking of him right away, but all my thoughts of him for so long had been tied up in memories and hopes that I had not thought to look forward. Obi-Wan was my past. Obi-Wan had his own future. Anakin was the future.

It seemed so obvious, now, and there was a connection between them already. It was sometimes tense, I freely acknowledged, but no relationship was free from stress. Obi-Wan and I had tried each other's patience many a time and our relationship had been the stronger for it.

I had the solution. Now that I had resolved my dilemma, I found it easy to fall asleep.

It was late morning when I awoke. My eyes went to Obi-Wan, standing staring out the window, hands clasped behind his back. He turned almost as soon as I focused on him and came to sit next to me. He was rested and bright-eyed, seemingly no longer troubled by either his actions during battle or with the status of my health.

"How do you feel, Master?"

"Qui-Gon," I insisted. "Not master, not any longer."

"I shall call you as I like," he said, eyes twinkling at me. "I'm not your padawan any longer. Not unless Master Yoda decides promoting me was premature on the Council's part."

We were both laughing when Yoda came through the doorway. He looked at Obi-Wan with a severe expression on his face and said sternly, "The Council's wisdom you doubt already? Taking your old master's opinions as your own are you? Stubborn, both of you are."

Obi-Wan quickly got to his feet and bowed, daring to look at me and see if I was laughing or hiding my mirth.

"Yoda, you're scaring our newest knight." I said firmly.

"Humph. If scared he is, perhaps change our mind we should." Yoda's ears curled in that way I knew was amusement. "Told you did he?"

I saw a spot of color flare in Obi-Wan's cheeks as if he was uncertain that he should have let this news slip. I softly laughed.

I shook my head. "Not in so many words. No, I expect he would never have told me; left you that honor, but I – well, our bond was wide open and I saw it through there when we were speaking yesterday."

"Ah," that wise head nodded sagely, and swiveled to face my padawan. "Told you we did that pulling back from your rage and achieving full control of yourself and the Force proved your readiness. You would not believe this old Jedi, eh, only your old master?"

Obi-Wan stammered something, but Yoda ignored him and turned his attention back to me. "Fine knight he will be, commend you on his guidance, Master Qui-Gon. Right you were, on his readiness. Enough on the boy - how feel you?"

I merely groaned. "Better when I am not reminded of being run clean through with a lightsaber," I admitted. "I must be drugged to my eyebrows since I'm feeling relatively good – how many days have I been lying here?"

"A week," Obi-Wan said gently, and in his eyes I saw reflected all his pain and the long days and nights at my side as he worried for my life. After my conversation with the healers the previous evening, I knew how close I had come to dying, not just how long my convalescence would take.

"One, very long, week. On the bright side, you missed the celebration." His eyes gleamed suddenly as he sat. "Our 'pathetic friend' was quite…entertaining as he tried to dismount. I believe even you would have been amused. You would have loved the banquet that followed."

He glanced at Yoda and leaned over, whispered in my ear just loud enough for me to hear, "you would have found some of the young ladies quite fetching, too."

"Brat," I swatted at him, laughing as Yoda blinked at the two of us. "I'm sure you were all too well-behaved a young man, and not just because the Council was there keeping an eye on you, but it was nice of you to think of me."

Obi-Wan suddenly sobered and sat up straight. "Also, well, Master Yoda – you want to tell him?"

Yoda frowned and leaned heavily on his stick. He wasn't pleased, I could tell, with the news he was about to impart to me.

"Trained, young Skywalker will be. Disagree I do; much anger in him I see. Clouded his future is. Council disagrees with me."

"Oh." I saw why Obi-Wan chose not to tell me himself. He wanted me to see Yoda's doubts for myself. I was, however, elated. I would not have to spend energy fighting for Anakin. The Council had finally shown its collective wisdom.

Though I had come to a decision myself as to who should be Anakin's master, I wanted to knowYoda's and Obi-Wan's thoughts before I spoke up.

"Anakin shall be padawan to what master?" I asked. I wanted to be, Force knows, but it just wouldn't be fair to Anakin.

Both Obi-Wan and Yoda looked at me and then at each other. They both then turned back to look at me at the same time, and simultaneously they said, "you." I only shook my head, and explained why I could not.

Once again the two of them turned their heads to look at each other. They both knew me too well, and knew I had a candidate in mind. They waited, Yoda endlessly patient and Obi-Wan with a quirked eyebrow as if he was afraid he knew what I was thinking.

"Obi-Wan?" I said slyly, raising an eyebrow at him. "You can take a padawan, now."

"Master!" he protested. "I don't even have my braid off yet and you want to put me in charge of young Anakin? I'm not ready for such a responsibility."

"Ready you are," Yoda said, turning to look at him. "A knight you are now. Ready, that makes you, to take on any task."

"But…," Obi-Wan swallowed hard. "He has been raised so differently…how would I understand how to deal with him? Besides, he expects you to train him. He was there with you when you said you would take him as your padawan – wasn't that something he held against me, when you came after me? That you were rescuing your padawan – me - when he thought he was to hold that honor?"

I thought I now understood his concerns. It was not Anakin himself, but the circumstances of his early life. It was easier to ignore the last part of his question; I was still uncomfortable with the position I had put myself in, and therefore the two of them.

"He already looks to you for reassurance, my padawan," I said. "I would take Anakin as my padawan were I younger and healthier, but I think it better if I entrust him to you. Who better to train the Chosen One, then the best former apprentice in the Order?"

My tone was gently teasing, for my poor Obi-Wan had, perhaps unfairly, been tagged as the "perfect padawan" in the past.

He had tried so hard to be perfect, hiding his imperfections from all, that very few actually saw his moments of indecision and confusion. As his master, I saw it all, and tried to encourage him to merely be who he was, not the perfection he thought he had to be.

Much of the blame for that lay at my hands.

I had been slow to warm to him and slow to trust, for the trust and love within him seemed a shell of deceit. How could one so young, so new to our partnership, give so much of himself so freely, so soon?

I had come to realize that Obi-Wan really was that trusting and loving a boy with those that he was drawn to. It always surprised me that he wasn't more attuned to the Living Force, and that I had to more than once remind him to amend his focus and seek deeper within. He would drop his eyes and flush with shame when so chided.

I regretted he didn't have a deeper connection to the Living Force, but I didn't consider that a failure, only an unfortunate aspect of his personality needing tending, not harsh words. His strength lay elsewhere, and I acknowledged that.

Yes, he was cautious in many respects, not quick to see the potential in those appearing to have none, and he was prone to quick judgments – usually correct, I had to admit, but far from always.

Some of this drive for perfection had shown up after our trip to Ilum when he had fashioned his own lightsaber. He had muttered of his failures when I had held him close, shuddering as if with a fever, though he seemed unable to remember or speak of his visions. He had made it past those visions, for he had constructed his first lightsaber and returned with it, but the visions had left their mark on him.

The boy who sought to give nothing less than his best became the boy whose best was not enough. Obi-Wan would not allow himself to fail. Since he was only human, he failed to achieve perfection and only tried harder, only to fall again short.

As his master, and his friend, all I could do was stand beside him. Sometimes, that was enough. Gradually, that intense need burned itself out and the boy became less driven, less hard on himself. He never quite lost his fear of failure, but he learned to accept that to do his best was acceptable; he learned to laugh once more.

The first time Obi-Wan had frowned and then smiled at an error, I had silently let go the breath I seemed to have been holding for a year. That was when I acknowledged my student was far more than that to me: he was my beloved son.

Obi-Wan stayed silent and I could see him trying to make sense out of everything that had happened to him so suddenly. He might be ready for anything, but he was suffering from a bit of shock after his sudden freedom, the battle with the Sith that had nearly taken my life and caused him to take one for the first time, and his knighting.

Even a Jedi had to be reeling under all these changes, and his cautious nature was making him hesitate.

I should have heeded that caution, in hindsight.

"It'll do you good, to have something and someone to focus on during your transition back to Jedi life," I insisted. "You left five years ago a senior padawan, only to endure terrible hardship on your own, and now you're returning to the Temple a knight. Your life is already confused; what better time to add the confusion of a new padawan?"

"Master, I don't know," Obi-Wan said, running his hands through his hair. "I can't deny you, if that is truly your wish, but think on it again before you ask me again. Speak to Anakin, if you have not already done so."

My mind was made up, but I nodded anyway. Obi-Wan, not I, needed time to come to terms with my request, and until we returned to the Temple there was no rush. I would speak to Anakin, too. He would understand.

He was a smart child; he would understand.


	5. Anakin Refuses ObiWan

Obi-Wan brought Anakin by later that day. I was sitting up in bed, feeling rather good as the painkillers continued to do their job. Anakin was clothed in Jedi garb, though his hair was not yet twisted into the braid and nerf-tail that would signify padawan status. As Obi-Wan turned to leave, I put out a hand and asked that he stay.

"No, Master," he said, shaking his head.

"Stay, please," I commanded. Obi-Wan's face twisted with my command, but he complied, going to the window and standing with his back towards us, his very posture telling me that he was present physically, unwillingly, and trying not to listen.

"Qui-Gon, sir," Anakin said, eyes confused as they went back and forth between Obi-Wan and myself. "You know they're going to make me a Jedi? Obi-Wan said you knew. You're going to be my master as you promised?"

The eagerness and certainty infusing his voice meant I now knew how deeply I would be disappointing him. There was no easy way to break the news.

I reached out a hand and put it on his shoulder. "I cannot – I am injured and in no shape to train you, Anakin. I have asked Obi-Wan to train you."

"No! Not _him_!" Anakin cried, and I saw Obi-Wan's shoulders tense at the pain and scorn in that voice. Obi-Wan had suspected this reaction, had even been prepared for it, I now saw, yet I had forced him to stay for this. To listen to Anakin's protests.

Hadn't he suffered enough pain so far? _Forgive me, Obi-Wan_, I thought, sending a wave of apology through the bond. _I didn't know his words would be so hurtful. _

Anakin continued his protests, heedless of their impact, despite my attempts to shush him.

"You said _you_ would train me! He's…he's just a padawan himself, and you were willing to replace him with me, and now you want _him_ to train _me? You promised you would train me! _I _hate_ you both"

"Anakin, stop," I said sharply, each word of his cutting deeper. My heart ached with the pain that Obi-Wan had to be feeling as he listened to Anakin's objections. Pain that was my fault.

Obi-Wan's hands clenched into fists at his side, and then he turned around and came to stand behind Anakin. He put his hands on Anakin's shoulder. The boy squirmed and tried to throw him off, but Obi-Wan merely rode out the twists and turns of that little body until Anakin quieted down. His eyes were more gray than blue now, a sign of some internal distress, but his voice was calm enough.

"Anakin," he said softly. "He's not rejecting you – he's too hurt to train you. You must realize that. He cares for you so much he's willing to give you up. I know you don't want me as your master; we'll find another master for you, but it won't be Qui-Gon. Don't be mad at him. Just be happy he's alive, and can watch over you, even if not as your master."

I saw tears in Anakin's eyes, and held out my arms. Anakin fell into them, weeping. I had not known this bright and open-hearted child was capable of such grief. It seemed to consume his young body.

I looked over his head and mouthed, "thank you," to Obi-Wan. He smiled at me, and softly withdrew from the room. He was right; he should not have been present for this.

"Oh, Ani," I pressed my lips to his soft hair. "I want to be your master, guide you, but I can't. You must accept that. No matter who your master is, it won't be me. Obi-Wan has been knighted; he will be a good master to you. I trust him. I'd rather entrust you to him, than to any other Jedi. I just can't be your master. Do you understand?"

"No," he sniffled against my shoulder. "I only want you."

"You can't have me," I said as calmly as I could, even as my heart broke. I had taken Anakin away from the only life he knew with a promise and a destiny, and it was not what he expected. He was just a young boy and he knew no other way to behave than to lash out. I hugged him close, feeling his tears soak through my sleep top.

His tears only came harder and harder, and he clung to me. It hurt; his head was pressing against my chest and I began to gasp with the pain. I couldn't get Anakin to let go. I had no choice but to send a quick request for help through the bond. Obi-Wan must have been waiting outside, for he was at my side within seconds and eyes assessing the situation.

"You're hurting Qui-Gon," he said gently as he pulled the boy away. Anakin's arms were flailing, small fists beating against anything he could reach, and now it was Obi-Wan who was bearing the brunt of it. Childish blows were landing on his chest, his hands, and he calmly bore it, even as I tried to protest.

"It's okay, Anakin, it's okay to be upset, but it's not okay to give in to it and hit people when you're upset," he reprimanded him as he spoke quietly into Anakin's ear. He hoisted the boy into his arms, a bit awkwardly since he tried to keep Anakin's fists pinned against his body.

Anakin was about as slippery as a greased felinoid, and even with my concern for Anakin's feelings, I couldn't help but be amused by the sight of one combat trained Jedi almost bested by one small determined boy. Obi-Wan was struggling to control him and I winced as a clenched hand caught him in the face. Panting a bit and giving me a strange look of almost – surprise, I think – Obi-Wan finally gained control over the boy.

The little boy was tense in his arms, until Anakin suddenly collapsed into my padawan's arms and clung to him, sobbing away. Obi-Wan backed into a chair and sat with one arm wrapped around Anakin as the other wiped his tears away with a gentle hand.

After what I had just witnessed, it did my heart good to see these two now, so close to my heart, one offering comfort and the other accepting it. Obi-Wan was holding Anakin as if he belonged in his arms, and Anakin was clinging to him like he would never let go. I had once held a young Obi-Wan like that and I knew the wonder the clasp of a young boy could give. Obi-Wan saw my smile, and rolled his eyes as if to say, yes, Master, I understand.

"Would you take care of me like he would?" Anakin mumbled against Obi-Wan's shoulder. "If you were to become my master?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said firmly.

"Would you love me like he loves me?" softer.

At that, Obi-Wan hesitated and looked at me with a helpless look. I could not help him, only his heart could answer that question. It wasn't a requirement, for a master and a padawan. In some ways it was a hindrance, in more ways it was a blessing.

"Not like he does. Everyone loves differently." Anakin took that as a yes; I knew better. Obi-Wan didn't want to lie to the boy. His love would come in its own time, and Obi-Wan would make no promises. It would come, I knew, but it could be slow to blossom.

No matter. I could see a connection already growing between the two.

"Put me down," Anakin suddenly commanded. Obi-Wan's eyebrows rose and he looked at me and winked, before turning back to Anakin and crouching before him. He spoke slowly and carefully, wanting no misunderstanding between them.

"Nothing's settled, Anakin. I understand your hesitation," he paused, and I knew as if he had spoken it aloud, his own added "I hesitate, too." Obi-Wan looked at me and back at Anakin, and he suddenly smiled.

"There's no rush for either of us to make a decision, so we'll both think about it, right? So I'm not asking you, and you're not forced to give an answer at this time. Okay? "

Anakin looked at my padawan and brushed the back of his hand across his eyes and asked my padawan, "Can I stay and talk with Qui-Gon? I'll think about it."

"Of course you can," I said soothingly, and nodded at Obi-Wan. This time, as Obi-Wan turned to leave, I didn't try to stop him. If Anakin and I were to speak freely, Obi-Wan didn't need to hear some of Anakin's thoughts. He had been hurt enough, Force knows, and I now suspected Anakin would share thoughts that would only add to his pain.

I wanted to spare Obi-Wan any pain I could. He had suffered too much, already.


	6. Anakin Reconsiders

"What makes you think Obi-Wan wouldn't make you a good master, Ani?" I asked, patting the bedside next to me and indicating Anakin should sit there.

His face scrunched as he blurted out, "He was your padawan, and you were willing to replace him with me. I – I must be better, or stronger, than he, so how can he train me?"

"Replace Obi-Wan, no!" I was a bit shocked at his thought.

This was the crux of his concern. That statement of mine in the Council chamber was what would become the first great misstep in many. It was the seed of much that was to come, and I didn't recognize it. None of us did. If we had…perhaps so much would have been different.

"I knew Obi-Wan would soon be knighted and would no longer be my padawan. I wanted you to be his successor, not his replacement." No one could ever replace Obi-Wan. I wondered if both of them thought this was true, and if so, I had to make sure both of them knew the truth.

"You are the Chosen One, Anakin. That makes you special. But even as special as you are, I would not allow you to displace Obi-Wan until his spot at my side was vacated. Now it is, and I would take you as my padawan if I thought it would be fair to you. But it isn't. The healers tell me I will be bedridden for a while. You need a master now, not in months. If I had died, you would have needed a new master, then too. The Force has seen fit to make another your master. You must accept that. The Force is what guides us at all times. Even if against our heart."

Stubborn little boy. His lips quivered but he remained silent, bright blue eyes shining with tears under the curtain of his hair. I almost relented then.

"You want to be a Jedi, Anakin. It's time to start behaving like one. Be brave, and face what life gives you." I rubbed a finger over his lips and he nodded uncertainly, then leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me, carefully this time. I hugged him back.

I looked over his head, out the window. It was a beautiful sunny day, and my lips curved in a soft smile. I was alive, and so were my two young friends. Life had been good, to grant me this.

"Will you accept Obi-Wan as your master?" I asked, turning my attention back to him. "If you really object, I suppose we could see…of course, perhaps he won't ask you…." I let my words trail off. As expected, my words acted as a challenge.

Anakin's head came up and he stared at me in surprise. "You…you mean…he might not want me?"

He hadn't even thought of this possibility, and it startled him. It even seemed to scare him a bit. I could see him bit his lip and look around as if answers were hidden in the room. I could see the possibility of some unknown master threw him, and as his mind puzzled through all the possibilities, I could see him start to panic.

"What if he doesn't want me?"

He was just coming to terms with the idea of Obi-Wan as his master, and now he was really confused and feeling twice rejected. That wasn't the reaction I had wanted.

"Oh, I'm sure he wants you," I said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to scare you. He will be good to you, Ani, you'll see. So, is it okay if he trains you?" My tone was now softly cajoling and I put a bit of Force emphasis behind my words.

"He's…okay, I guess," he said reluctantly, and a big grin slowly split his face. "I can get used to anything, so I guess I can get used to him."

I smiled at him. Now, I needed to persuade Obi-Wan.

I waited until later in the day when Obi-Wan showed up to sit with me. We remained in companionable silence for a while.

"This is a beautiful planet, Master," he said suddenly, apropos of nothing. "I would remember this place with sadness had things turned out otherwise. I am glad to leave it with nothing worse than mixed memories. To almost lose you…and then to get my heart's desire."

He turned his soft eyes on me and smiled. "I would have traded my knighting for your life without hesitation, had it come to that."

"It didn't, padawan, it didn't," I reassured him, "But I appreciate the thought. So, when's your knighting ceremony? I have looked forward to it since the day – that day we swore an oath to each other. You promised to obey me, and I would say you pretty well managed to keep that part of the oath, even when you were a bratty teenager."

"I wasn't that bratty, was I?" He looked at me, startled, and I could see him searching his memories. I only laughed and winked at him.

"Not really; I heard I had it quite well compared to what some of your age mates put their masters through." I rather remembered how put out some of the masters had been when I would sit quietly listening to their exchanges and sighs over their padawans. I always felt a bit guilty, so once in a while would find some minor incident to embellish. After all, it was for Obi-Wan's own sake.

In my experience, no padawan deserved a reputation for being perfect, and of course, none were. Even Obi-Wan. When one was perfect, the standard was too high to live up to and inevitably, at some point, the padawan would not achieve it.

"So, you haven't answered me, padawan. Until I remove that braid, I expect you to continue obeying me." I grinned, grabbing it and giving it a slight tug. "The ceremony?"

"When will you be well enough to attend, Master?" his voice was mischievous, and I waggled a finger at him.

"I would climb out of this bed this minute if I needed to, don't think I wouldn't. Has Yoda said whether we'd have it here, or wait until our return to the Temple?"

"The Temple, I think. That'll give you a few more days to recuperate. Besides, I have to construct a new lightsaber first, according to Yoda. He's making arrangements for me to borrow a small ship to get to Ilum."

Ever-considerate. I didn't really care, yet it seemed somehow fitting that it be at the Temple. That was how I always imagined it. What a triumphant return for Obi-Wan that would be.

I suddenly determined we would add some of the old rituals to the ceremony, and there would be a few items to acquire to do so. This would work out well, and the ceremony would make quite a transition from Obi-Wan's past to his future. Besides, I had forgotten about his lost lightsaber. He needed one for the ceremony.

Newly returned, newly knighted with a new padawan, in new quarters. A new beginning.

"Now, master, you've got that gleam in your eye," Obi-Wan said, holding up his hands and backing away from me with a mock-horrified look.

"Fright ill becomes you, Obi-Wan!" I chided, and then smiled to show my words were in jest. "No, I was just planning…I've waited many years for your knighting, padawan mine. I want it to be worthy of you – you will face so many changes on your return. Home, knighted…a master?"

Obi-Wan merely sighed. "I have nothing against the boy," he admitted. "I doubt my ability to train him – with his background – with all the changes going on. I know there is only 'do, or do not, there is no try,' as Master Yoda tells all the initiates. I have no other candidate in mind, for all this is very unexpected, you must remember. Were it my choice, I would not take a padawan for a year or more."

"I trust you, Obi-Wan,' I said simply. "Accept him, for me. He will accept you. We have spoken."

"Yes, Master," he said softly.

Our fate was now all but sealed.

* * *

I was restlessly staring out the window, wanting nothing more than to be on my feet and moving around. I have never taken pleasure in simple lazing around, and the atmosphere was not conducive to meditation. I had already chased one medical droid away, just to amuse myself, only to smirk through a well-meant lecture by a healer on the necessity of not exerting myself.

Later that day, Anakin and Obi-Wan came in together. Anakin had the smallest of braids woven into his hair, and a small nerf-tail, as I saw when he turned his head away for a minute. I grinned, for now it was official. Anakin was a Jedi padawan – my grand padawan.

Once decided on a course of action, Obi-Wan never hesitated. He was his own man now, and he had gone ahead and spoken to Anakin once he had made a decision.

Both of them looked reasonably pleased with themselves, and I had to laugh softly. When I had asked Obi-Wan to be my padawan, both of us had been solemn and moved, and I had sensed a deep sense of contentment within my new padawan, as well as a glimmer of the same awaiting me.

These two were different. Both of them were drawn together in a common sense that they were facing the unknown: Obi-Wan on his acceptance back at the Temple and Anakin among strangers in a lifestyle he – quite frankly – would find confusing.

None of us knew just how confusing Anakin would find it, and how hard to adapt to Jedi culture would be for him. None of us could have prepared him, and none of us could have helped him deal better with it. To us, it was home and all we knew – the only lifestyle we knew.

To Anakin, it would be like learning a new language and a new dedication. He was at a difficult age for this – had he been younger, or even a bit older, it would have made it easier.

Even I, who understood his need for approval and validation, would have slid into old Jedi habit and expected Anakin to seek that which he needed from within, just as I had expected the same from Obi-Wan as time went by.

If only I – we – had had eyes then to see what later became clear.

"I am so pleased," I said softly to both of them. "Both of you – you know either of you can come to me at any time, but I have enough wisdom to let you work out your own relationship, so don't expect me to hang around you both trying to direct your destinies."

My padawan only threw a mock-glare at me. "He's my padawan, Master, so you'd better." Anakin only stifled a giggle.

* * *

Obi-Wan and Anakin were careful not to tire me out, so I was bored and more than ready to visit when Yoda and Mace arrived. I was surprised to see an actual smile on Mace's face as he entered my room. We respected each other, but we had very different views of the Force and how to serve it.

"Qui-Gon, I am glad to see you recovering," he said, advancing close to my side and gripping my arm in his hand. "We feared the worst when young Kenobi contacted us."

"That young scamp didn't neglect to advise I was alive, did he? I thought I taught him to make better reports than that." I was surprised and dismayed.

"No, no – he reported you were badly hurt and that was why he was contacting us rather than you," Mace assured me.

"Strained, his voice was," Yoda added. "Serious we knew it was."

They repeated Obi-Wan's preliminary as well as his full report, and I had little additional to add. He had done an admirable job, though I thought he downplayed his role just a bit. He hadn't mentioned Anakin in his first report, but Anakin's role wasn't known to him at that time.

"Return to Coruscant shortly, your padawan's knighting ceremony to take place," Yoda said gruffly. "To Ilum he has gone, a new lightsaber to make. Meet us at the Temple, he will."

"No," I shook my head suddenly. "No, I don't want to return to the Temple without him at my side. Not again. Please."

"Qui-Gon," Mace started to say, but I interrupted him. I was sure he was going to say a Jedi feels no emotion, let it go, the past is behind us, something like that to soothe me. I didn't care.

"No, Mace," I said with all the determination I could muster. "It's not too much to ask. It'll be the last time we'll return together, as a team. I want this last time."

Mace looked at Yoda, and Yoda merely sighed.

"Contact young Obi-Wan we will; change his destination we will. Defy us again, you do." His words may have been severe, but I saw how his ears swiveled. I merely smiled.


	7. Return to Ilum

The Naboo had given Obi-Wan use of a small interplanetary ship. Once he had set the course, he retreated to meditate in the small cabin.

He could admit it to himself, if just barely. He didn't want to return to Ilum. He had all but buried the visions he had faced there deep within him. He had faced them, but had not defeated them – he had only survived them. The haunting knowledge of failure and the suspicion that it was a failure born of his unworthiness had infused his young life with the aching need to prove himself worthy, to be perfect, to stave off that future.

He was enough in tune with the Unifying Force, even then, to know the future had many possible paths and that this future, his failure, might be averted if he worked hard enough, tried hard enough, and believed hard enough. Failure did not come to those who were perfect.

So he had sought perfection. But even in that, he failed, for he was still a human being, and incapable of perfection.

It didn't matter. He had thrown himself into his training, avoided distraction and sought the perfection that would stave off that future without hope – empty, haunted and ever so lonely.

He barely remembered the vision itself. What remained of it was the fear deep within him, a void that admitted no light and no hope, that had caused him to shiver and seek refuge in meditation upon his return.

Qui-Gon had been worried about him. His master had wrapped him in warm blankets and held him in his arms, but even that loving gesture had not been able to melt the ice within him. His mind had thrown up barriers and by morning he barely remembered the vision.

The fear and the ache, only they remained, below the surface of his consciousness, but the knowledge of _why_ was buried.

Now he was returning. Would the visions show him he had conquered that which caused him to fail, or would they show him the same future?

Facing the caves of Ilum had almost destroyed him that first time, and he feared it would be worse this time. Darker deeds now lay in his past – demons that would face him would be less fears of what might lie within him, but pulled from his life and knowledge of what did actually lie within him.

After his conversation with Yoda, after facing the entire Council, he should be at peace with his actions on Naboo. He hadn't expected to be knighted for his actions.

He had given his report, a full report and the Council had been silent, reviewing his words. He had thought he would be dismissed, and was waiting when Mace Windu suddenly steepled his fingers and leaned forward to face him.

"Padawan Kenobi," he said, emphasizing his rank. "We wish to explore for ourselves your role in the battle. Yoda has given us a report of your conversation but we wish to hear how you handled that for ourselves. We ask that you place yourself in a light trance for this."

The young Jedi hid his surprise, and managed to avoid looking at Yoda. He obediently took a deep, calming breath and sunk into a light trance. The Council was in the edges of his vision, but unreal as if they were ghosts. He was part and parcel of the Force; it trickled through his consciousness without guidance, a wash of quiet that removed all conscious thought and emotion. He waited, at rest, patient.

"Tell us, first, of your missing years," Mace asked, leaning back. He carefully guided the young Jedi through his memories, even some he had not shared with his master. Even the painful memories had no power over him, not immersed in the Force as he was.

He heard the other masters ask questions of him, and idly wondered at their gentleness as he answered. The Force lapped at the edges of his mind, waves that washed in memories and waves that washed them away.

Obi-Wan barely noticed when the questions shifted to the fight on Naboo. He already knew how he had felt during the battle for Yoda had drawn that knowledge from him. The knowledge of the peace he had felt, when he had known he could live, filled him, and the memories caused no pain. He had faced them already.

"Obi-Wan, wake," Yoda's voice broke through the stillness that was his mind, and he blinked. The masters were all sitting quietly looking at him. No one spoke. He waited, patient.

"Return to your master's side, you may. Await a summons. May the Force be with you, young padawan." Yoda's words gave nothing but dismissal, but to be told to await a summons was unusual.

Obi-Wan silently bowed and left the room the Council was using. It was a high tower room in Theed palace, ornate and marbled as were all the others, with long windows stretching floor to ceiling with views of the skies and city below.

He had been recalled not long after. Gold and pink streaks swam across the horizon and the color reflected off the clouds and laid long fingers of light across the floor. The sun was setting, and suddenly Obi-Wan wished for Qui-Gon's presence at his side. The sunset was something they had not yet had a chance to share together since they had been reunited.

Obi-Wan stood within the circle of the masters, wondering what questions they had for him this time. Had he answered badly? He had answered truthfully. That would have to sustain him. He vaguely remembered the questions and his answers, but he had put them aside, for they were the past.

Much to his surprise, Yoda stood and slowly limped to stand in front of him. Obi-Wan quickly kneeled to be at the little Jedi's height and raised patient eyes. Yoda leaned on his stick and thoughtfully stared into his eyes. Obi-Wan waited.

With a slight nod and thump of his stick, Yoda spoke.

"Knight Kenobi you are by decree of the Council. Passed your trials, you have. Done well, you have young one."

Obi-Wan merely stared, not believing he had heard right. Knight? They were knighting him? His eyes went to the other council members' faces, Mace – and Mace was nodding at him with a slight smile on his face.

He opened his mouth to speak, and found he had nothing to say. His voice had fled. He bowed his head before the Council and then raised it again.

Yoda gently poked his shin with his stick. "Nothing to say, have you, eh? Surprises me, that does. Always a word, you and your master both have."

The smile that rose within him banished his silence. "I thank the Council. I am honored that you think me worthy."

"Obi-Wan," Mace drew his attention away from Yoda. "We will discuss your ceremony later, when Qui-Gon has recovered enough to participate in it. He would never forgive us, if we had it too soon. But a knight you are now. You will need a new lightsaber; you should return to Ilum to fashion one for the ceremony. May the Force be with you."

Obi-Wan slowly stood, and bowed, and left with his head in a whirl. Qui-Gon had as much as told him that the trials were not always a formal test within the Temple, and hinted that he thought Obi-Wan was close to being knighted. He had not quite believed his master.

He had been gone from the Jedi, and all but cut off from the Force for five years. He might have been thinking ahead to the trials, expecting to begin the long intensive path towards them in the future, had he never been absent, but to be knighted now…when he had expected remedial education – his head was awhirl.

* * *

Obi-Wan surfaced from his thoughts as the alarm beeped. He would be coming out of hyperspace shortly. He made his way to the pilots compartment and settled himself in. He took manual control of the ship; it gave him something to concentrate on, rather than the tests Ilum would throw at him. He would face them then, not anticipate them now.

Ilum was a planet covered in ice, shrouded in storms and buffeted by strong winds. There were no settlements or beacons, the only life was what wildlife resided there. Ilum was restricted in the sense that the Jedi didn't advertise its presence or purpose, and no one was ever tempted to explore the planet – it was too hostile.

Ilum was the source of the crystals that focused a Jedi's lightsaber. The crystals grew within a cave perched high on a precipitous slope, and there was no easy access, just a difficult and an even more difficult access.

Obi-Wan found an icy ledge high on the slope and settled the ship down carefully, engaging a claw to anchor the ship should a sudden blizzard blow in and buffet the ship over the ice to crash on the ice pinnacles far below. He would hate to be trapped on Ilum without a ship, with only the clothes on his back and a few ration bars in his belt.

He donned winter survival gear – heavy outerwear, gloves, headgear and goggles to protect him from the ice crystals swirling outside the transparisteel panels. The wind moaned through the pinnacles and battered against him as he stepped forth. He nearly stumbled as a strong gust buffeted him as he leaned over to fasten sharp ice-claws to his boots.

It was a relatively decent day on Ilum. From searing dry desert, to mild sunny Naboo, to this icy wasteland – he had gone from one to the other within mere days, in little more than a week's time. He shook his head with a rueful smile; the life of a Jedi was full of upheaval and change.

He sent a quick tendril of Force out questing and was relieved to encounter no life presence nearby. The gorgodon of Ilum were rarely around the caves, but a Jedi could not count on that. They were a formidable presence and didn't hesitate to deny entrance to the caves if they chose.

Obi-Wan activated his cable launcher and carefully tested its hold, twice. It was anchored firmly, and he triggered the button that allowed him to ascend. The wind blew and twisted in swirls and sudden gusts, changing angles and direction without regard for the man hanging onto a cable above a precipitous drop. It knocked him about from side and side, and a particularly strong gust smashed him into a rock outcropping.

He had felt the wind crash against his body; he twisted around and let himself relax into the swing to minimize the shock. Even so, the impact knocked the breath out of him, but he let the pain flow through him and continued up.

Finally he was at the cave entrance, and back on his own feet. He looked over the edge and saw his ship far below, a small speck anchored to an incredibly tiny ledge. He had actually managed to land the ship in such a small area? He was a better pilot than he remembered.

Entering the cave, the wind dropped to a mere breeze behind him, and the temperature rose from below freezing to merely freezing. He stripped off his bulky gloves, his outer wear and even his cloak. A Jedi faced the cave without any of it, letting the Force warm his body.

Obi-Wan stood and faced the recesses of the cave, stood loosely with arms at his side. He waited for the cave to speak to him. He would not rush his entrance. The crystals that he sought would call to him but they had to sense his presence first.

He knelt, not noticing the warmth of his knee melting the ice into slush, the slush numbing his knee and cold stealing up and down the leg. His mind reached out for the Force and touched it, waiting for it to beckon him forward.

Finally he felt the soft lure as the Force wrapped itself around him. Now, it gently commanded and sent him on his way. It left him then, to meet him in the crystal cave. He would have to get there on his own, for no Jedi passed from the entrance to the cave within, only the living being with all its faults and strengths made the journey. He would bring nothing with him, but that which he chose.

Obi-Wan stood, and the icy slush fell away from his knee without his notice. Focused, he slowly advanced without bravado, clearing his mind. Whispers, words without meaning, began to invade his mind, whispers that resolved into words, warnings.

_You are not worthy, you have failed_. Obi-Wan heard, but did not listen. His steps continued on steadily. The whispers grew louder, beat against his mind. _You let your master down._ _You were taken out of the fight and he nearly died because of you_.

Obi-Wan's steps faltered, and he blinked, resumed his slow march. He rounded a corner, and saw Qui-Gon lying dead in front of him, dead on a cold marble floor and eyes open in the vacant stare of death.

_No_, his mind spoke firmly. _Qui-Gon lives_.

_Qui-Gon could have died. This is what might have happened, because of your failure to stay at his side. _Obi-Wan shook his head, blinking away tears. _I have faced this, he told himself. I thought he was dead. Yet he lives._

_And you blamed yourself because you let him die_, the whispers continued.

_I erred only in that I fought, and in battles, errors happen,_ he spoke firmly and walked through the vision of Qui-Gon. He caught his breath as he felt himself falling…falling… and he reached out and grabbed a protrusion in a hollow core, a bottomless pit that spoke his name.

_You die here_.

_No, I live here_, he said and walked on.

He brought his lightsaber around in a desperate attempt to stave off the Sith's blade. There was only one way to meet the Sith and live. Let the rage within him free itself and lend strength to his movements. The Sith's lightsaber was whistling towards him and he could not block it by himself. He could only block it with hate and rage.

The two lightsabers locked and the two stared at each other through eyes yellow with hate. He who hated more, he who raged more, would be the one to live. Obi-Wan suddenly knew he could win this fight. He hadn't fully let go, all he had to do was ignore the weak part of him that was telling him to pull back, that it was better to die bathed in light than to drown in darkness.

He faced the light in him, prepared to extinguish its flame and saw what he loved most in danger of being killed by the very thing that so honored and loved it. No, he couldn't – he saw what he hated, and it was within him. There was only one thing he could do to keep the light alive. He had to let the darkness be defeated. Even if it killed him, he would still live in the light, in the Force. He looked at the Sith and let the rage and hate flee from him. The Sith could kill him, but the darkness within him would be destroyed.

The light would survive, and live. That was the only survival that mattered to him.

There was only one way to live, to let the light live – to die. He stood, and watched as the lightsaber descended towards him, face upturned and a faint smile on his face.

_I die here, but as a Jedi in the light_, his mind whispered - and he was kneeling in an icy cavern with the Force strong within him and face upturned.

Obi-Wan blinked and wiped tears from his eyes. _Remember the light, nurture it, and all will be well_, the Force whispered. _It is within you, all you have to do is seek it, and remember_. _When all around you is embers and darkness, fear not that you have failed, for you will be the one to rekindle the light with the light within you_. _You shall be present at the end of an age, and at the birth of a new one. _

Already he felt the words fading from within him, nothing more than a wisp of a dream slipping away from his thoughts, ethereal and insubstantial and barely remembered. It left behind a lingering echo, of peace and serenity that would spark within him when the time came to awaken it.

_I live for the light, and I will die for_ _it_, he found himself whispering, and he felt a chill, as he had just spoken the truth of his life's end. _If that is how it shall end, I shall embrace it_, he murmured.

Now it was time to focus on his task. The cave had accepted him.

He let the crystals speak to him, direct his eyes. He knelt on the floor and cupped one within his hands and the ice released its grip on it. Obi-Wan carefully scooped it within his hands; it felt warm but he was not surprised. When the right crystal and the right Jedi were united, it should feel warm. He waited to see if a second crystal called to him, for a lightsaber could be built with one, two or three crystals. None did.

He moved to a different area of the vast cavern, where parts and power cells waited and he patiently fashioned a new lightsaber, letting the Force guide his hands and design it for him. When it was assembled, he focused his attention on it and smiled and gave a few swings with it. It felt right in his hands, balanced.

He thumbed on the switch and it sprang to life, an icy blue blade much like his first lightsaber.

"I will wield you with honor, and in service of the light," he told it, and attached it to his belt. It hung there comfortably against his hip.

Before he left, leaving behind a packet of parts for the Jedi who might follow him to fashion his or her own lightsaber from scratch – most Jedi pre-assembled theirs at the Temple before coming for the crystal – he took a last look around. It might be the last time he would come here, other than to accompany his young padawan to the cave entrance, there to wait for another to complete his first lightsaber.

He hoped this lightsaber would not leave his side. He had no wish to face the visions again. He had made his peace with his demons.

With one last look around, he left, one hand resting on the hilt, assuring him that it was at his side.


	8. Return to the Temple

Before we left Naboo, Queen Amidala came to visit. Even in all her regal finery, I saw the spirited and friendly Padme I had gotten to know during the journey from and back to Naboo.

"Master Jinn," she said as she stepped into my room. Her eyes were twinkling at me as I sat up in surprise. "Naboo owes you a debt."

"Your Highness," I inclined my head. "I am honored to have been at your side, but I fear I had nothing to do with your reclaiming your planet. That honor is young Anakin's."

"And your companion, and you, too. Naboo will forever remember the assistance the Jedi gave us, even if only 'unofficially.' I understand the limitations of the mandate you were given."

We both laughed, and I relaxed a bit, for the Council had limited our action to protection of the royal party. We had not been given leave to fight on her behalf. The fact that to accomplish the first required some action on her behalf unanticipated did not bother us.

Queen Amidala sat carefully on a chair, balancing a large and unwieldy headdress and waved her attendants away. Once we were alone, she giggled like a young woman.

"Call me Padme, please," she requested with a charming smile. "At least in private."

"Padme," I acknowledged with a smile, and thanked her for the fine care I was receiving.

"Naboo's pleasure," she waved it off. "I have met with your Jedi Council, and one thing I know now is that you are not a typical Jedi."

"Milady?" I questioned.

"They are all so stiff and formal. Even your companion tends to be like them – give him another five or ten years and he'll be that stiff, too."

How I wished Obi-Wan was present to hear this. He would probably shrink inside at the thought, but there some truth to it. The more he saw and experienced, the more controlled he tended to become. The open hearted boy I had first known had grown more cautious and reserved. There were times I regretted this, for much of this had been due to my early mentoring of him.

I had kept my distance from him, and he had confused my distance with indifference. He had tried so hard to please me without changing his own nature, that he had become tied to the rules rather than the spirit of the Jedi code. His greatest fear had become that of disappointing me. I had known that, but hadn't really acknowledged it.

The long years without him had shown me how much I had come to rely on his presence and how deeply I mourned his loss. The joy of our reunion still flamed within me – no matter the grief and pain of those years, that elation of seeing recognition and happiness in his eyes would live in my mind until the day I died.

Padme saw the smile blooming on my face and she laughed.

"Your – padawan, you said?" I nodded. "You seem both to love each other very much. I thought Jedi were trained to repress emotion, yet I saw how deeply he felt when he thought you might die. I saw him, you know, after he killed that Sith, while you were being rushed to surgery. There were tears on his face, and heartbreak in his eyes."

I wasn't surprised to hear this. My padawan felt deeply, though he usually didn't display his emotions on his sleeve. He must have been quite fatigued to let it be displayed so obviously.

"Obi-Wan is the son I will never have. Yes, I love him," I said simply. I looked at the plant and smiled. "I know he loves me, too – the Force truly blessed me with such a companion. As Jedi we are trained to avoid acting on emotion, and that often means a Jedi doesn't display it. Some more than others. I'm afraid Obi-Wan too often hides his heart."

"Unlike his master," Padme said. I merely nodded.

"I wish he were more open with his feelings, but he can be nothing other than what he is. He is a good man and he will be a good Jedi, even a great one. I can't ask for more than that, really."

Padme smiled in understanding. She hesitated, and then leaned forward a bit, mindful of her headpiece.

"Was he undercover on Tatooine – or had some misfortune undertaken him and he was truly a slave there? I recognized him, you know."

My throat suddenly was tight. "Your highness – Padme, his story is not mine to tell. What was, however, is behind us, and the Council is knighting him for his actions."

"He must be pleased."

"He is overwhelmed with everything that has happened to him lately," I admitted. "Padme, I must thank you for all your kindness to young Ani. You must know by now that he has been accepted for Jedi training, and that Obi-Wan has accepted him as his own padawan learner."

She nodded and her face softened at his mention. "He is a very special young man. Had he been denied training, I would have offered him a home here. The Hero of Naboo would not have been turned away." Her smile was mischievous and she winked at me.

"That would have been very kind of you," I blurted, taken by surprise.

"He will always be welcome here. Had he stayed, I am sure he would have made me his wife in a few more years, as he declared. I should not have been able to stand against his persuasive powers." Padme smiled, and stood up. Suddenly she was the queen again. "I hope we meet again."

* * *

Obi-Wan came to see me as soon as he returned from Ilum. Of course, I wanted to see his lightsaber and was reaching for it almost before he had taken a seat or had a chance to ask how I was. He merely grinned as he handed it over.

"I can see you're recovering," he offered dryly as my hand lifted from my side.

"Hmm, yes," I muttered and grinned back at him. "It's your influence, my padawan. Now let me see it."

I turned it over and around in my hands. "It does work, right?" I teased him.

"I tested it this time," he protested. We were both remembering his first lightsaber, now lost. Obi-Wan had been so proud when he had built it, but when he first powered it on, nothing had happened. His young face had clouded with disappointment and he thought he had failed entirely.

Once I pointed out the minor connection problem, Obi-Wan had quickly fixed it and it sprang to life. I never had to explain the obvious to Obi-Wan, though I often had to point it out to him in his younger days.

He didn't seem inclined to speak of the visions he had had to face this time, but when I gently probed he admitted it hadn't had the impact of his first trip there.

His face tightened a bit, and he said quietly, "I know how to die, if I need to, not just how to accept death." I must have looked as startled as I felt, for he gave a funny grimace.

"It's better than…feeling like the entire galaxy has collapsed into darkness to leave me alone."

"Tell me," I urged gently.

He raised his eyes to meet mine and shrugged.

He still wouldn't speak of his first trip and the visions that had so shook him. That vision still haunted him, somewhere deep inside it was obvious, for his voice had sounded suddenly hollow and full of an aching grief that I had never seen in him before, except that one time.

I laid a hand over his, and waited for it to stop trembling. "You will never be alone, Obi-Wan," I said firmly. "Never. You will always have the Force. I promise."

His breath caught in his throat, and he looked at me as if memorizing this moment, this conversation for some future moment when he would have need to recall it. I kept my hand on his until he smiled and banished the memory.

"You're right. I will always have the Force to comfort me."

It was really the first time, and it turned out to be the last time, he ever referred to those visions. I hope whatever they are, they never come true. I will never forget the sight of thirteen year-old Obi-Wan shuddering, and stiff with pain at something he foresaw in his future. Obi-Wan deserves a future so much better than the one he fears may come to pass. Perhaps Anakin, the Chosen One, will prevent it from happening. That is my fervent wish.

Yes, the Chosen One may indeed affect my padawan's future in ways that I can't possibly envision.

"It's a very well-constructed lightsaber," I observed as I handed it back to Obi-Wan. "Now be sure you never tarnish it by getting it wet while lit."

"I learned that lesson long ago," he said ruefully. "You had to save both of us since I had been careless. That scared that lesson into me."

"Good, then. Take care of it, and it will take good care of you."

"Yes, Master."

* * *

I didn't see much of Obi-Wan on the trip home to the Temple. He spent most of his time with young Anakin and Yoda, preparing the boy for his new life, instructing him on what he could expect to face, what classes he would attend and basic behavior. At the Temple, Yoda instructed the oldest younglings and youngest initiates, so Anakin was getting some good one on one education.

It would not be easy for Anakin to fit into the tempo of Jedi life, at least at first. I understood that, and was pleased that Obi-Wan understood that himself. He was trying to deepen his connection to Anakin in this less stressful time, with the hope that it would help Anakin through any rough patches.

At other times, when I reached out through our bond to check on him, I found Obi-Wan in meditation, preparing for his own return. How would he be accepted there after his long absence? He had disappeared and now he was returning a knight. The Jedi would welcome him, of course, but it was bound to be a bit awkward at the same time.

As usual, he didn't seek my counsel and I couldn't say I blamed him. He always tried to deal with his own emotions himself since that day long ago when I had told him I was allowing him to learn to fly with his own wings. That had only been only a year or so before he disappeared on Phindar. Now that the Council had granted him knight ship, he would see it as his responsibility to deal with whatever emotions he harbored.

Some of that time I spent plain conversing with young Anakin, for the steady instruction he was being given all but bored him stiff, plus I got the sense the expectations placed on him scared him a little.

"Is it all going to be boring lectures?" He came to my side after one session, demanding I tell him no.

I merely looked at him, trying to catch up to his train of thought. "Which one?" I sighed.

"My master," he said unwillingly. "He talks but all he does is lecture. He puts me to sleep. Don't Jedi ever have fun? But the other one," that was Master Yoda to all but Anakin, apparently, "he scares me."

Considering Yoda's experience with the younglings, that surprised me the most and I am sure my face showed my confusion. "Master Yoda? Why does he scare you?"

Anakin looked down, and his eyes looked up warily. "He doesn't think I should be a Jedi. He sees into me, and doesn't like what he sees."

So Anakin was perceptive enough to pick on Yoda's reservations. I wasn't going to lie to him, but I wanted to ease his mind as much as I could.

Trying not to laugh, I said, "Master Yoda sees many possibilities in all things. The Unifying Force is his strength. No doubt he sees some possibilities ahead for you that concern him. He's been known to have some concerns about all of us, including Mace Windu. Even myself. I wouldn't worry about it."

He didn't answer me, and I wasn't going to push him.

"So all Obi-Wan does is lecture you, huh? I'll have to have a word with him," I said, changing the subject off Yoda.

"Well, not exactly 'just lecture' me," Anakin said, a bit reluctantly, and his brilliant grin popped out. "But it seems I won't get to do anything exciting or fun until he makes sure I know what to do and how to behave and all that stuff."

"Oh. Well, you will be expected to learn 'that stuff' if you don't want to stand out. He's trying to be helpful, you know. Eventually you'll get to the fun stuff, just give it time and your master time. He's new at this, too, you know." I winked at him. Anakin just sighed.

This just might be a bit enjoyable for me. Force knows Obi-Wan had driven me up a wall a few times, and I had frustrated him plenty of times. Now I got to watch all this happen to my former padawan and his own padawan. The hard part would be minding my manners and not offering all sorts of well meaning advice.

"You'll be glad for all this information when we arrive at the Temple, Ani," I finally said. "Then you'll make new friends, and life won't be nearly so un-fun. I'll give you a tip – laugh at your master's quips – you know, jokes. He thinks they're funny."

A broad smile broke over Anakin's face. "Oh. Thanks, Qui-Gon," he said and hugged me. I hugged him back. It felt wonderful, to have small arms around my neck again. My padawan was a grown man now, a knight and I would probably get no more hugs from him. Here was the next generation of hugs.

It felt good to be alive.

* * *

I spent most of the trip sunk into a healing trance, for I was determined to be in the best health possible for Obi-Wan's knighting ceremony. I wanted nothing to mar the occasion; Obi-Wan would focus on nothing but the ceremony if I had any say about it and I didn't want him worrying about me.

My chest still hurt if I exerted myself or even laughed or cried hard. The healers told me I would always be weak due to my injury and would not be able to take on any strenuous missions.

Our return was relatively low key. The Council quickly went their various ways. Yoda took Anakin off to spend his first few nights in the initiates quarters. I knew Obi-Wan wanted to keep Anakin with him, but Yoda and I both knew that Obi-Wan also needed a few days to adjust, catch up with friends, and prepare for his knighting. We had discussed this, and Yoda put all the force of the Council behind him when he spoke to Obi-Wan.

"Your friends wait for you in the Senior Padawan common room," I said, giving Obi-Wan a little shove. "Go see them. I'll be in our old quarters, fixing you one last meal before you move into your new quarters. You are staying in your old room until I say otherwise."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, rolling his eyes. "As you wish, Master."

"Oh, go on with you, brat," I said affectionately. I stood and watched him leave, feeling suddenly lonely. We had teamed up over twelve years ago, and despite the sometimes difficult moments between us, we had found a deep friendship. We would always have that, but Obi-Wan had a padawan now. He would be busy with young Anakin, and we would see little of each other. There wouldn't be time, and there would always be missions to occupy us.

"Sentimental old Jedi," I muttered as my throat tightened, and I headed to my quarters to take stock of my food provisions. Obi-Wan would get his favorite meal, and I needed to prepare.

I couldn't help myself. The common room where Obi-Wan was headed wasn't too far out of my way. My footsteps almost automatically took me there and I stood outside the door, smiling as I watched and listened.

Bant, his dearest friend, a female Mon Calamarian, was openly crying against Obi-Wan's shoulder. I was pretty sure he must have tears running down his own face. He loved Bant dearly, and anything she felt, he did. Reeft and Garen Muln were surrounding them with unbelieving smiles, while other padawans stood nearby grinning.

Even Siri Tachi, who gave Obi-Wan a harder time than anyone, stood tapping her feet. She was pleased to see my padawan, though she was in the middle of speaking, crossly as usual. "…disappear on us and think to show up five years later! How dare you, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

I smiled, and turned to leave. Obi-Wan was welcomed back; I knew he would be.

Just as I left, I saw Siri lean forward and plant a kiss on Obi-Wan's lips, to everybody's hoots and hollers. Just before Obi-Wan's shields dropped down, I felt a little shock of surprise and pleasure jolt through him, quickly tamped down.

No doubt about it, he knew Siri was all woman. For just a moment he was focused on nothing but soft lips pressed to his – and it wasn't a chaste kiss, one between friends, yet it was tempered with regret and sorrow, a palpable ache that went deep.

I knew then that Obi-Wan had been touched by love, and would forever deny it. They knew that the two of them could never be together openly, and so had denied their feelings. The shock of this reunion had startled the truth out of them, and the moment had already been acknowledged and locked away forever behind tight shields.

It saddened me.

Obi-Wan deserved more than just my love; yet he could not accept that which had been given to him or return it.

Not if he was to be a Jedi.


	9. A Look Back Before A Step Forward

Oh-dark-hundred, as Obi-Wan had dubbed it, found me awake and padding down the hall to his room, a grin on my face despite the hour. Even such an early riser as I found it early.

I had missed this morning ritual of waking my sleeping padawan. The only thing he was capable of first thing in the morning was a determination to remain asleep until his master's stern insistence that he both wake and get up pierced his sleep-clouded mind. A soft light, a gentle "good morning," or even a cup of hot kaffa waved under his nose was insufficient when he was resting in his own bed with no mission ahead of him or danger near at hand tickling at his senses.

I was going to awaken Obi-Wan against his protests, and it would be for the last time, so I was determined to enjoy myself, though how he could sleep after his emotional return and the anticipation of today's ceremony amazed me.

I eased open his door, stamping this moment in my memories, this last sight of my padawan still within my custody, in the quiet of this new day. Sunrise was still an hour away. Soft moonlight and the ever present glow from unceasing traffic and nearby buildings spilled over him. He was a man now lying in that bed; he had last lain in that bed as a young man nearly grown. Then, he had still needed my guidance on his path, his skills all but honed. True understanding of himself was within his reach, that and the deep connection to the Force he needed to take the next step in his life's journey.

He had found the latter without his master's guidance. I had missed so much, but would be eternally grateful that the Force had granted me a second chance at life, to see his success at following his path though I had not been there at his side as I should have been.

I had many regrets in life, that last one an ever-present ache, but I put it behind now me. I had many joys, too, and this man who I had watched grow from a young boy, now lying rimmed in soft moonlight, was one and would continue to be one.

It was time to hand custody of him over to the Force; my son, now my brother, yet always in my heart, still my son.

It was time to awaken him.

He was sprawled as usual, limbs akimbo and his cheek against the pillow, his back towards me. I leaned against the door jamb deciding if I would attack his feet, or tickle him under the armpits, or just drop in his mind with a big "good morning" – until I remembered the last time I had done that.

Obi-Wan had had the last laugh on me; he had spent the day in bed with a raging headache as I apologized over and over for causing him to crash headfirst against the wall. He had felt too bad to even try to milk it for all he was worth, which of course meant I was twice as apologetic as I would otherwise have been.

The healers hadn't been too pleased with me, either, insisting my padawan was lucky to have avoided a concussion. I wondered if that small scar was still there, even now.

I quietly snuck over and decided I would merely dump him out of bed. I reached for his arm and suddenly my arm was clamped between two strong hands. Obi-Wan held on as he twisted around and gave me a big grin.

"Did you really think I would be sleeping that soundly?" he asked, as with a touch of the Force he turned on a light. "I learned long ago to sleep with one eye open when you're around, and then in recent years – I never had the luxury of a slow awakening or much of a desire to even face a new day."

"Let me go, will you?" I said, wincing. "I'm hurt, remember." He immediately let go my arm and started to apologize profusely.

"Brat, got you!" I crowed as I hauled on one arm. This time he didn't try to resist; I had scared him away from wrestling with me with my reminder of my injury. He slid with a thump onto the floor and lay looking up at me with laughing eyes.

"As it's my last morning as your padawan, Master, I shall allow you this familiarity," he grinned, chuckling as I stood over him with one slippered foot planted victoriously on his chest. He made no move to throw me off, merely lay sprawled on his back against the carpet with one foot still twisted in the covers and arms outspread to break his fall. His braid was beneath him and stubble marked his chin and I saw something of how one day he might appear to my eyes.

Even should his face grow lined with wisdom and age I knew the essential joy within him would still be sparkling through those luminous eyes as if this young man would forever exist, regardless of the exterior that time's passage stamped upon him.

I merely grunted in amusement and moved my foot aside. "Today is only the ceremony marking your change in status, padawan mine. You were a knight as soon as the council granted you that status. But I will always consider you my padawan."

Obi-Wan only groaned and sat up, pulling his knees to his chest. I saw his eyes going around his room, taking stock of the worn coverlet and books on his small desk, noting the dents he'd put in the walls and the spots on the flooring, and his grin was both yearning and knowing.

"Are you sure I can't stay here – this is home, you know," he said quietly. "It's like the past has faded almost entirely away and nothing has changed, yet I won't return to this room again. It's…kind of sad, Master."

He would remind me. Despite the early morning arising, we had sat up late, reminiscing.

At first, I had watched Obi-Wan wander our small quarters, fingers touching the dent in the table from when he had practiced his levitating skills and dropped the heavy skillet he was trying to move. He then sprawled on the lumpy old couch that he loved and smiled at each bump and lump that remembered the contours of his body. I was not in the least tempted to reproach him for his lazy posture.

I only smiled as I watched him, for that sight reminded me of when my former master, Master Dooku, had suddenly appeared in my quarters. It had been a year or so since Obi-Wan's disappearance and I had given up hope of ever seeing him again. I had tried to give up my memories of Obi-Wan, to assuage the empty hole within me.

Master Dooku had sat properly upright awaiting my return, determined to save his grieving former padawan from a life devoid of hope. He had forced me to face the sunset and Obi-Wan's memory: he had made me realize I had shut Obi-Wan out of my heart in my grief at losing him. When he made me say his name, a burden had lifted me from me, and I knew then my master was both right, and capable of great kindness disguised in his own inimitable way.

Master Dooku had given me back Obi-Wan, many years before the Force reunited us. I would be forever grateful for the lesson: one could grieve without forgetting the person for whom one grieved.

So I merely leaned back in my favorite chair with a drink at my hand, watching with a sad smile on my face. Obi-Wan was soon up, prowling the room, poking into cupboards and delighting in what was unchanged, and surprised at how little had changed.

My eyes watched his back as he opened the long shut door to his room. It had not been opened in years. For some months after he was gone, I would sit in there, inhaling the soft vestiges of his Force presence and basking in what I had left of him. When the lingering traces evaporated, I had shut the door. Forever, I had thought.

I would let Obi-Wan explore his past without me hovering over him. I had already warned him to expect dust and cobwebs, but he soon stuck his head out and grinned at me.

"Someone's been kind enough to clean in here," he observed. "Did you arrange that? Everything is just as I left it."

That stirred me to my feet and I came over to stand at his side, peering into the room.

"Well," I marveled. "I wish I was that thoughtful. Perhaps your friends came by to clean. Thank them, not me." I put a hand on his shoulder.

I knew the room as well as he, after those long nights spent in there, just staring and lost in my memories. Obi-Wan put an arm around my shoulders and we stood there in the doorway, our eyes finding different things to focus on.

The scorch mark on the wall in his room where he had ignited his hanging lightsaber during a childhood nightmare. I hadn't learned the full story behind that for years, and I still wondered that Obi-Wan was able to sleep through the incident without a nudge from the Force. It was I instead, who had leapt from bed and thrown a glass of water that sat at Obi-Wan's bedside at the mark before it flamed into fire.

At the hiss and soft coils of smoke, Obi-Wan had screeched awake and I had seen that he was still caught in a nightmare and arms flailing around like he was defending himself. I had caught his arms in mine and gently woken him. His panicked eyes had stared into mine for long seconds, before he blinked and relaxed.

After that, I made sure that the hook he hung his lightsaber on held it in such a way that such an incident would never again be repeated. It had not.

Obi-Wan let go my shoulder and crossed to the bed, sitting down on it and staring around with a pleased smile on his face. "So many pleasant memories," he whispered. "It'll be hard to leave."

I laughed and crossed over to his desk and sat down in the chair. "You won't be far away in quarters that look much the same, except freshly cleaned and painted. And you'll be in the master's room."

"It won't feel like home,' he said softly. "Without you."

"Tough luck, you're a Jedi and used to upheaval and changes. You will just have to adjust," my eyes twinkled as I teased a smile from him. "Besides, the first time young Anakin comes racing through your quarters crowing over something, or has a pillow fight with you, it'll be home, then."

"I suppose," he mused. "Force, Master, there have been some good times here." He laid back on the bed, crossing his arms under his head and turned suddenly serious eyes to me. "Thank you, Master, for always being there for me and all your support."

I leaned forward and placed a hand on his knee. "Not always and I'll regret that. But thank you. And, you know, you don't have to be a stranger. I like to think we're friends, not just a master and his former padawan."

"We were never just master and padawan. We were always friends," Obi-Wan returned with unusual fervor.

"I'm glad you thought so. The first few years, I – well, I should…shouldn't have…oh, blast it, I didn't deserve you, Obi-Wan. Then I finally gave in and accepted you as I should always have done. I was happy. Then you disappeared, and my," I hesitated, "my entire world just about crumbled. I tried to forget you, but I couldn't. You were still in my heart. Then I saw you, and I didn't know if you would hate me, or if you would even know who I was. I was so scared, and so elated, but I got you back. You came back, padawan mine."

I pulled him to me and hugged him hard. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me back. I had been wrong earlier. I had not had my last hug from Obi-Wan.

I hesitated before speaking; then said without looking at him, "why don't you spend the rest of the evening with that young padawan you used to be such friends with – Siri."

There was silence, and I could sense Obi-Wan looking at me in shock and surprise. I finally raised my eyes to his and said gently, "I'm sorry; I don't wish to meddle, but – well – I didn't mean to intrude, but I had to see you greet your friends, and I saw how you felt about her – and she about you."

Obi-Wan looked away from me, and I thought he was upset; then he brought pain-filled eyes back to meet mine. "I can't," he said quietly, and swallowed.

"As I said before, padawan mine – ," I started to say, but Obi-Wan shushed me with his eyes.

"No, Master. I – we can't. To be together like that, when we can't be together – it would hurt too much. It's all, or nothing…and being a Jedi means we can't have it all, or even that much. We had already agreed, years ago, that we had to forget about _us_. There never could be an _us_. We were both taken by surprise today. It won't happen again. We won't allow it to."

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," I said, letting my eyes speak my sorrow for me. "You deserve love in your life – to love and to be loved."

"To be a Jedi is to sacrifice much," he said softly. 'I think…I will sacrifice a great deal. Perhaps more than even I imagine."

I felt a shiver crawl up my spine. Obi-Wan should be happy tonight, not lost in morbid thoughts of the future and a life of sacrifices. If that was to be his future, he should face it when it came, not anticipate it now when his future was open to the currents of the Force.

"It is my life's path. I am meant to be a Jedi. There are no choices, no optional paths for me," he said finally, as if sensing my thoughts. I sensed a deep and quiet acceptance within him that didn't belong in this night before his knighting. I put my arms around him, and he didn't resist, only turned and hugged me hard, as if this embrace might have to be pulled from within his memories to comfort him in the future when memories would be the only solace he would find.

"Oh, my Obi-Wan," I whispered into his hair, holding him close. "My arms will always be here for you, should you have need. Should you be thirty, forty or more. Even beyond death, I will always be with you."

"Promise?" He suddenly wrapped his arms around my neck and hung on like a little boy, but even as a boy, he had not clung to me like this.

"Promise."

I sensed the fragility and strength both within him. Fragility – he might break before his trials, but not into so many shattered pieces that he couldn't reassemble himself once the blow had struck. Strength, for he would always be able to rebuild himself and continue on, never hesitating in his duty or willingness to help those in need.

"I wish we could just stay like this forever," I whispered. "But you have your own life, your own future now." I released him, and sat unashamedly wiping a tear away.

My young padawan, no, my former padawan, sighed softly as he sat up straight and became again a strong and serene Jedi, shedding his doubts and fears into the Force.

"Before I know it, I'll be busy with young Anakin. The initiate master said she'd bring him by our," he stopped suddenly and had a strange expression on his face. He grinned, and continued, "_our_ quarters mid-day, after the ceremony. If he's anything like I was, I will be awfully busy for ten or more years. This quiet evening here, in my old quarters…I'm grateful to have it. The calm before the storm."

"Now, now, Anakin may be many things, but I hardly think he's a storm," I chided him with a gentle smile. "And Obi-Wan…I'll still meet you for sunsets when we can get together, okay? You, me, Anakin. Speaking of which…it's almost time to go share one – our first since we've been reunited. I've waited five long years for this."

"So I have, too, master," Obi-Wan said quietly.

We walked, side by side, down the long corridors to a balcony facing the sunset and stood, side by side, as we had so often done. I turned my head and looked down at him. His eyes were shining and a smile graced his lips, and I could feel mine curve to match it.

I laid a hand on his shoulder, and he leaned against me with a quick smile up into my face, eyes content and joyful. We stood, shoulder to shoulder, facing the sunset. We were together, again.

The Force had truly smiled on us, and peace was within both our hearts.


	10. Knightly Rituals

"I drew your bath," I said. "While the tub's filling, will you help me get all dolled up for your knighting ceremony?"

"Of course, Master," Obi-Wan said, scrambling to his feet. I couldn't raise my arms enough to slip into my tunic top, so Obi-Wan had helped me undress last night and was helping this morning. I idly wondered if he would find a reason to visit each morning and night as long as I needed assistance.

Once I had my tunic smoothed into place, Obi-Wan slipped behind me and started combing my hair. It surprised me, and I twisted around. "You're not twisting it in a nerf tail to get a laugh out of the Council, are you?" I asked suspiciously.

"What – spoil the ceremony?" he said with a laugh. "Maybe I'll try that when it's Anakin's ceremony, but I wouldn't dream of spoiling mine."

"Your bath!" I suddenly remembered the running water. "Hurry, before the tub overflows." Obi-Wan took off flying, and I heard him slide to a stop and turn the water off before his voice came peeling down the hall, laughing. "In time, master, in time."

"Then in with you," I said serenely, having followed him at a slower pace. "We are doing this right, padawan mine, by the old rituals. I even comm'd ahead for the right scented oil." I waggled my eyebrows. "Good thing you've lost that modesty of yours, for your master must bathe you. In with you."

We were doing this right, and I was going to make sure we followed all the old rituals, even if some of them were rarely followed anymore.

I poured in a few drops of the scented oil. Obi-Wan's nose wrinkled as he sniffed and he looked at me in surprise. I just laughed and told him to get in the tub as I poured the water over him per the ritual, followed by a quick and unexpected dunking of his head in the water.

He spluttered and shook his head, droplets flying everywhere as he looked at me in surprise. I ducked with a "hey, you're getting my finery all wet."

Before I let him out of the tub, I made him sit and let me study the scars on his back. Bacta patches worked wonders. When I carefully touched the lash marks, Obi-Wan didn't even flinch. The marks were fading from his body even as they faded from his consciousness. I was inordinately pleased to see this.

I handed him a towel as he stepped out and told him his clothes would be laid out on his bed once he dried off – once I had shaved him. He rolled his eyes, and I lightly punched his shoulder. I worked the lather up and added more scented oil, and dabbed it over his face.

"Ready?" I asked, a razor in hand and came towards him with a big grin.

"That's a sharp implement, Master," he protested, shrinking back. I looked at it and shook my head in wonder. "So it is, so it is. I'd better be careful, and you very still."

"I'm growing a beard," he threatened me.

"Fine," I said serenely. "But not starting today." I carefully scraped his face and patted his skin dry, adding a light touch of oil as I finished.

"I smell like a perfumed harlot," he muttered under his breath.

My eyebrows went up to my hairline and I asked in astonishment, "since when you have gained knowledge of what a harlot smells like?" I was beginning to wonder how much of the past five years he hadn't told me about.

"One learns a lot as a slave," he said unhappily. "You needn't worry; I didn't consort with any of them though I knew one or two, when my owner had need of them."

I merely laughed and slapped him on the back. "Too bad. Go get dressed," I said fondly.

I waited, and sure enough, in just a second I heard his yelp. "Master!" he barked, laughing uproariously. "Such a color!" He stuck his head out of the room and eyed me suspiciously. "You aren't really going to make me wear this – explosion of fantastic color are you?"

He was holding brightly colored underclothing with one finger, and I could see his eyes begging for me to admit it was a joke. I tried to keep my face solemn, but I just couldn't. Such dismay and laughter burbled through the bond that I fell back laughing in my seat. When I recovered breath enough to speak, I weakly shook my head.

"I promised you a rainbow pack, my padawan. You do want to look fetching today, do you not?"

"No one is going to see me dressed in these, are they?" He was scandalized, or pretending to be. That set me off again. I could just see Obi-Wan standing in the Council chamber, displaying – no, even I couldn't picture that.

With tears streaming down my face, I managed to gasp, "One last joke on you, Obi-Wan. Master's prerogative. No, you don't have to wear them."

Obi-Wan stared at me, shaking his head and mumbling something about senile old masters before he disappeared back into his room to find something more sedate. I just collapsed back into my chair. When I remembered what my own sedate, prim and proper master had done to me for his final "revenge" – I turned bright red. Obi-Wan had it easy. I had never spoken of Master Dooku's prank on me to anyone. I never would.

Even if I had, no one would have believed me. Master Dooku – no.

I was sitting in the common room when Obi-Wan stepped out of his room, smoothing down his new undertunic self-consciously. He was unused to dressing so simply, and to be seen outside in his quarters in the same. In style it was the same garb Obi-Wan usually wore, but of finer though still plain and simply woven cloth, pure white to symbolize his commitment to the light, the Force itself.

The outer tabard was of even finer cloth, unadorned, and awaited us in the Council chamber along with the tunic and new equipment belt I had brought with his new everyday clothes to Tatooine. Obi-Wan would not wear them until he was anointed a knight. He would go simply clothed before the Council, in plain undertunic and leggings, and bare of feet.

It was a symbol of humility and deference to the Force, but for a somewhat prim and correct young man, it seemed almost disrespectful to face such an important ceremony so dressed. The thin undertunic hung loosely from his shoulders, emphasizing his slim yet powerful build.

I slowly stood and walked over to him, placing my hands on his shoulders and felt a burst of incredible pride in my heart.

"I have waited a long time for this," I said, pulling Obi-Wan into my arms. He returned the embrace, before pulling away.

"Hey, you're messing up the look," he protested, half in jest, and smoothed the undertunic down.

He looked even younger and almost innocent dressed so simply, though innocence should have long since fled those luminous jeweled eyes over the years. Yet, somehow, that innocence was still there, deep within him, and I marveled at his ability to retain it.

I studied him with a fond master's eyes as I held him at arms length. Standing before me was calm and competent Obi-Wan. His face was as smooth as the day I had first seen him, and a smile tickled my heart as I remembered.

It was shortly before Xanatos had turned; before my heart turned to stone. I had stopped in to watch the very young initiates as they sparred with soft padded sticks, not having even having graduated to training lightsabers yet.

One sandy-haired boy caught my attention. He was a bit smaller than his sparring partners, and a lock of sandy hair seemed to keep falling in his eyes. He had a look of joy and confidence even then; while the others seemed to chew their lips or look uncertain, he seemed comfortable.

He had won his match, at that age still considered play, and after the customary bow in salute to his partner, he had looked at the sparring master with a contagious giggle, as if he had been given a great gift. He wasn't reveling in his victory; he was reveling in his actions and I had to grin with the young boy whose name I didn't know.

He had happened to glance my way, and those eyes – had seemed to see right through me. He had grinned at me before turning away. I would remember that boy.

I knew nothing of him for several more years, until fate threw us together. I didn't at first recognize the serious and unhappy boy of nearly thirteen as that happy, giggling child. His time to be chosen as a padawan was nearly up, and none wanted him, including me, to my everlasting shame. None of us had looked deep enough to see the heart of a Jedi that beat underneath the exterior.

I remembered the look of – peace – on his face when I asked him to be my padawan. It was like he knew what was meant to be, had now become so. He knew, well before me, that we were meant to be partnered, and from the beginning his trust and his love were in my hands – and I had squandered that gift.

I sighed, for I had not been worthy of his devotion in those early years. How much more he would have been, for not for my mentoring. How much less he could have been, because of it. His need to earn my hard won approval had made him into more of a rigid rule-follower than he was by nature. As a natural rule-breaker myself, it was both pitiful and amusing that he became more rigid over the years.

I again saw in my mind that young boy throwing one last look over his shoulder before advancing into the ice caves on Ilum to build his first lightsaber. No Jedi ever knew the horrors and fears another Jedi faced breaching that cavern; I had never asked. But the mark of his journey was still apparent even after his triumphant return, in the silence of his soul.

He had never spoken of it to me, but he had shivered once, just as our small ship left the planet. He had quietly disappeared, and when I tracked him down, I found him in deep meditation, again shivering. He had looked up at me and said unhappily, "I don't want to be alone and so sad. I'm so lonely." I had sat down beside him and pulled him against my side.

"You'll never be alone, young one," I assured him. He just looked at me with pained eyes, full of shadows, and swallowed hard.

"I'll try not to fail. I want to make sure that never happens," he said, and never spoke of it again. As I wrapped my own cloak around him and held his shivering body within my arms, I had wondered what he thought he might fail at. Obi-Wan failed at nothing, though he wouldn't agree with me. In my opinion, one never failed, if one gave his best, as Obi-Wan did.

I counted failure as doing less than one's best or what one knew was wrong, and Obi-Wan as making an error in judgment. Failure to complete a mission was somewhere in between, for such failure could not always be avoided.

Because of my aloof care and rarely expressed approval, Obi-Wan saw potential failure all around him, and held himself to an impossible standard of success. I deeply regretted that, and had never been able to do more than temper his fears and assure him that perfection was neither desirable nor attainable.

My mind skipped ahead and I remembered my last sight of him some five years before. Just before we parted, he had turned to me and smiled. It hadn't been his usual grin but his full smile, that one that brightened a cloudy day. I had not seen him again for five long years. When I had, just weeks ago, he had been grubby and exhausted, but he had turned that same smile on me when I spoke his name.

I remembered so many times facing his eager, young face – questioning, smiling, and sometimes crying. Now that boy, later a young man, stood before me a grown man, and that quizzical look was back on his face.

"We've seen a lot, and we've been through a lot together, Obi-Wan," I said. "Now it's time to let you go. I am so very proud of you, my padawan."

"My master," he said mournfully, though his eyes sparkled at me.

"Let me have your lightsaber," I said gently. He nodded and handed to me. I clipped it next to my own.

"It's time," I said. "Padawan Kenobi leaves for the last time. Knight Kenobi takes his place. Come, padawan mine."

We walked the long hallways silently. I snuck a look at his face and he looked peaceful and a hint of a delighted smile graced his lips. Since a broad smile was on my face, I said nothing. If Obi-Wan felt the cold floor against his feet, or the slight morning chill through his thin top, he showed no sign of it.

My cloak swished around my ankles in the hushed morning silence and we ascended the steps that led to the lift that would take us into the highest spire of the Temple where the Council met.

"Follow me and say nothing unless asked a question, at which time you may answer," I instructed. "Are you ready?"

"I am ready," he whispered, and squared his shoulders.

"Yes, you are indeed, my padawan." I said warmly.

When the lift doors opened into the Council tower antechamber, the dark room was filled with the glow of lightsabers. Those masters and knights not on the Council, present in the Temple, had gathered there in a simple salute, forming a path to the Council chamber doors.

"The Force throws light onto the dark, guiding your path," I said, drawing and igniting my own blade and leading the way forward. Sheathing their lightsabers, the other Jedi silently followed us into the Council chamber and stood in a ring against the outer walls.

Nothing shone brighter in that room than my pride.


	11. The Knighting of ObiWan Kenobi

I waved open the doors and led the way into a dark chamber. The sun would soon rise and flood the chamber with its warm glow, even now there were hints of color through the wide windows of the chamber, but the only light was my upright lightsaber, its emerald blade cleaving the darkness.

"Who comes before us?" a deep voice intoned. Even knowing it was Mace Windu, I almost shivered in anticipation at the ancient words signifying the ceremonial start.

"Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi," I said firmly, gliding to a stop in the center of the room with Obi-Wan a step behind and off to one side in the traditional padawan position.

"The Jedi Order does not recognize Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi." On cue, Obi-Wan dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

"I petition the Council to recognize him," I said formally. "As his master, I request that you grant him this rank. He has earned the right to be called knight. He has passed his trials and proven his wisdom, judgment and skills before you. The caves of Ilum have allowed him entry. He has constructed a lightsaber and wielded it with honor in the service of the Force. He is worthy."

"His deeds are not disputed. The beads he wears in his symbol of rank speak to his passage of the Trial of Flesh, the Trial of Spirit and the Trial of Courage. He wears no bead signifying passage of the Trial of Self-Knowledge."

"He wears no such bead, but the High Council of the Jedi Order has recognized his passage of the trial. It took not place within the Temple, but within his heart and mind during a battle on the planet Naboo. The Council has granted him passage of this trial. I humbly beg and request that the Council so acknowledge this within the candidate's hearing."

I felt the merest hint of amusement, from more than one person present, when the words "humbly beg" left my lips. Obi-Wan's head dropped even lower and I just knew he was trying hard to hide a grin. Even my own lips twitched.

"We grant this request. Obi-Wan Kenobi – you have passed all four trials required before your petition is tendered."

Mace's voice was unusually stern and in the dimness I saw his eyes flicker to meet mine. Mace knew of Obi-Wan's inner struggle, better than I realized, for he was the only living Jedi master to master a certain – knowledge of the dark side – and use it in combat without letting it escape his control or harming him. He knew the dark side's lure well.

His eyes gleamed at me, as if he recognized my thoughts, before he resumed speaking.

"Who amongst us speaks to his devotion and dedication to the Force?"

I waited, wondering who would speak on Obi-Wan's behalf. It had to be another, not his master. I could almost feel twelve pair of eyes assessing my padawan. My young padawan only bowed his head lower, patiently waiting.

A dark shape detached itself from the silent group and glided before us, before moving to stand behind Obi-Wan and place strong hands on his shoulders.

"I speak on the candidate's behalf. He has proved his devotion to the Force. He is worthy." It was Mace Windu himself, and I think I was almost as surprised as Obi-Wan to see who spoke for him.

Of all the Council members, Mace himself had been the hardest on Obi-Wan. I saw his hands tighten reassuringly on Obi-Wan's shoulders as Mace looked at me and nodded, a slight smile on his face. He stepped back and faded back amongst the circled masters.

"Does any other wish to speak for this candidate – who amongst us deems him worthy?"

"Deem him worthy I do." It was Yoda's voice, firm and even, I thought, proud.

"As do I." That precise voice was Ki-Adi-Mundi's. The rest of the Council chimed in, one by one. As each spoke, a lightsaber flared into light, until twelve lightsabers nearly surrounded us, held at a forty five degree inward. It was a dazzling display, multi-colored beams of light nearly surrounding us – shades of blue and green and one solitary purple one.

"The Council is in unanimous agreement on the candidate's worthiness. Do the knights and masters of the Jedi order herein also commend his worthiness and back Master Qui-Gon Jinn's petition to recognize he who kneels before us as Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

In response, scores of lightsabers burst into light, held vertically in an outer ring behind the Council.

"He is deemed worthy by those whose equals he will be. Kneel, padawan Kenobi." I heard Obi-Wan silently slip to both knees and bow his head.

"When you rise, you will be acknowledged as a Knight of the Jedi Order. Do you affirm your wish to this rank – do you agree to serve the Force no matter the sacrifice it demands of you – do you pledge your life to protect those who call on us for assistance? Swear you this on your lightsaber, knowing should you be forsworn, your lightsaber itself shall cease to function as the crystal within shatters with your oath?"

I handed Obi-Wan his lightsaber. Obi-Wan ignited it and held it upright in front of him. In its blue light, I could see the intensity in his eyes, before he bowed his head to the hilt.

"I hereby pledge my life, my honor and my aid to the Force and all those it calls on me to help," Obi-Wan said softly, with barely a tremor in his voice. I had not coached him on his response, for a padawan was free to pledge himself as he saw fit. "I dedicate my life until its ending and even beyond; this I pledge for all eternity."

I turned and faced Obi-Wan. "Are you willing to offer a sacrifice in service of the Force?" I asked, indicating he should hand me his lightsaber.

"I offer my life," Obi-Wan said quietly, with no hesitation and in a firm voice. A simple yes was all I expected, for the sacrifice was the padawan braid.

I faltered a second and looked at him, for a sudden shudder ran through me. I had the merest glimmer…

…an old - old from grief and weariness though less old in years - Obi-Wan, eyes patient, weary and yet hopeful, watching unafraid with his blade held upright before him, face uplifted as he gave himself to the Force even as a lightsaber pierced his body and took his life - I shook the vision away, blinking away tears. I looked to see if the rest of the Council had seen this too, but in the dark they were all but invisible.

Was this what a thirteen year old boy had seen all those years ago? If so, perhaps the Force had been merciful and the vision had only shown him the events preceding his sacrifice, and he knew nothing of his life's ending.

Was this my beloved padawan's future? It took me a moment before I could continue, through a throat tight with grief and tears. At that moment I made a solemn vow to prevent that future if I could.

I didn't know then that this future had already been set in motion by events now behind us. Only after I passed into the Force, retaining my identity within it, would I know the fateful steps we had taken, or could have avoided. My Obi-Wan, I would have spared you all the grief you suffered, had I known. You were alone, with grief, alone for so many endless years - but for the Force. At least, I was right about that.

You would die with hope in your heart and bathed in the light, when you joined me in the Force, years from now. Not until then would you realize your failure was nothing such – it was your shining success that would make it possible for the son of Vader to redeem the father, and the prophecy to be fulfilled.

My padawan, you will have rekindled the light that had all but gone out in the galaxy – you, through your love, compassion and abiding belief in the light. Your sacrifice and your grief were not in vain. Just as the Force had spoken to you in Ilum.

You never stopped believing…and you died in service of the Force. You were the candle that relit the flame and let the Jedi rise from the ashes of the past into the glory of the future. You had a destiny and no title; your name would never be celebrated and passed down the generations.

You learned and passed on the greatest lesson of all – it was not just how one faced one's death, but also how one lived one's life. Your lesson would live on, in the son of Vader, in the untold generations of Jedi that would follow him, all in your footsteps.

But I knew nothing of that future then except that merest glimpse, and it was all too soon forgotten. I would only know, and remember, long after my own physical death, when I lived in the Force awaiting my fellow Jedi and my beloved apprentice.

"In recognition of your pledge, I take in sacrifice your symbol of rank," I said, walking behind Obi-Wan. Igniting his lightsaber, I held it aloft. "Padawan Kenobi exists no longer. Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi takes his place."

I took his braid in my hand and drew his lightsaber across it. Obi-Wan jerked a little as he heard the hair sizzle, but the lightsaber was on low enough power to only singe, not burn. I stood and displayed his braid for all to see.

"It is done," I said, and I could not restrain my pride.

"His padawan braid I hereby display before you. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight is now a full-fledged member of the Jedi Order, no longer bound to whim or command of any amongst us, an equal among equals, subject only to the Force, guided by the Council most high. May he live in and serve the Force for the rest of his days. He has so pledged."

"So he has pledged," the twelve Council members repeated. "We accept his pledge and deem him a full member of the Jedi Order. He serves the Force in light."

Clipping his lightsaber next to mine, I took his tunic and slid it over his arms; took his new tabard and carefully draped it over the tunic, then wrapped his belt around his waist.

I then moved in front of Obi-Wan and knelt before him. I unclipped his lightsaber, laid it across my arm and extended it to him hilt first. Shaking just a little, Obi-Wan took it and clipped it to his belt. I leaned forward and kissed him on one check, than the other.

"Rise, Knight," I said, and helped him to his feet. Since I was injured, he more or less helped me, rather than I him. I again embraced him, and didn't regret for one minute the tears sliding down my face.

I let go of him and stepped back, to stand at his shoulder, side by side with my former padawan, shoulder to shoulder as fellow knights.

"By the Force, how I've waited for this moment," I said softly, throwing a sideways glance to my former padawan. "Together, side by side, now comrades. I've looked forward to this from the very moment we swore an oath to each other. Never again a step behind and off to the side. Our journey together has come to its end; your journey starts afresh."

Turning my gaze back to the Council, I bowed and Obi-Wan followed suit. "I present to you Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, knighted by my hand with your consent."

With a wave of his hand, Mace turned on the lights in the chamber, low so as not to blind us all and all the Council members rose to their feet and inclined their heads. Obi-Wan knelt on one knee and lowered his head to them, a gesture not part of the ceremony. I saw smiles and nods on faces; the Council appreciated his gesture. Even Yoda was moved to a smile, and Mace – I peered closely – yes, even Mace's lips were slightly upturned. Two smiles in one day? Obi-Wan should feel honored.

Obi-Wan reached out for my hand and clasped it. I dropped my other hand to his shoulder and tousled the hair where his braid used to be. "You're allowed to say something," I murmured. "It's too late for them to deny you knighthood now – the ceremony is over."

"My heart is too full," Obi-Wan said with a hint of a grin, but he was still a bit overcome with emotion, though recovering fast.

"Well, your stomach isn't, and you're still too thin, so let's hie down to the dining hall and have some food. But, first…" I pulled Obi-Wan to his feet. Force, I was happy and I knew my eyes were dancing with all the pride I felt.

The chamber doors opened to reveal young Anakin standing behind it, grinning like it was his own ceremony. Obi-Wan turned and saw Anakin; stood waiting quietly.

"He says I lecture too much, and am far too boring for one so young," he whispered to me.

"He told you?" I was startled.

"I guessed, and you just confirmed it," he said out of the corner of his mouth. There was no time for me to think of a response to that, for Anakin was within earshot now and he slowly walked up to us.

Obi-Wan dropped to one knee and half extended his arms. They were both a little hesitant. I held my breath for just a second, and then Anakin threw his arms around my former padawan and beamed brightly. The new master and new padawan hugged, and I felt a catch in my throat. Was this how all masters felt when their padawans grew up and took their place as knights, and took padawans of their own?

"You look funny without it," Anakin giggled, patting Obi-Wan's shoulder where his braid usually hung when Obi-Wan was leaning forward as he was now. "Can I see it?"

I held it up for Anakin's inspection and he twisted his head and stared at it. "Wow, will mine ever look like that?" he breathed.

With a mix of pride and sorrow, I felt the touch as their bond deepened, and the growing affection between the two, for as their connection grew, my connection to Obi-Wan was fading. I wanted to clutch at it and hold on, and chided myself.

Before the bond entirely closed, Obi-Wan reached out to it and wound a tendril of Force around it and anchored to him. _Never closed entirely, my master, with your permission_.

_Are you sure, Obi-Wan?_ I was pleased, but I didn't want him to do this for me. He had to live his own life now, and concern himself with his padawan, not his former master.

_There's room for you both…and I can keep you tucked away in a tiny little corner._

_Brat_!

_Friends?_

_Forever._

Ever mercurial, Anakin pushed away from Obi-Wan and came to my side. I watched, smiling, as Obi-Wan's friends – Bant, Garen, Siri, Reeft – came up to offer their congratulations. I smiled at their hugs and smiling faces, their tears. Such joy…so much joy.

There had been so many tears lately, but they had turned from tears of sorrow, to tears of joy.

"You be good to your master, Ani," I said fiercely, hugging him to my side. "He's a good man and he'll try hard, maybe too hard, to be a perfect master. Just don't let him be perfect, okay, he deserves better than that. Don't you be perfect, either. Just – love each other."

"Okay," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I'll laugh at his jokes, but I'll sleep through his lectures." He grinned and raced away.

I moved to one of the windows, staring out at the rising sun and not seeing it. I was deep in memories. I remembered my own knighting, so many years before. I had been so full of hope. I had not known what joy and heartbreak lay ahead of me.

Obi-Wan's future was so bright before him. As long as I drew breath, I vowed to keep watch over him and to ease his heart if he should ever need it. He was no longer my padawan and duty did not require this of me.

Love of him demanded this of me.

I will be watching the future unfold now. Obi-Wan and Anakin are the bright lights that will be my legacy. Their stories are theirs to tell; I am only an onlooker.

An arm came around my shoulder and a finger brushed a tear from my eyes.

"I thought you said no more tears, Master," Obi-Wan whispered. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders as we looked out the window. On Obi-Wan's other side, I saw, was young Anakin and Obi-Wan's other hand was resting on his shoulder.

"Ah, my padawan, not tears of sorrow or of grief, not this time." Those tears were in the past; perhaps, too, in the future. I focused on the here and now; the Living Force that bound us together.

Three Jedi, three generations: the past, the present, and the future.

These tears – these were a gift of the Force, reminding us that we were more than Jedi: we were sentient beings and that we lived and that we loved. These tears, joyful tears: these were tears of the Force.


End file.
